


Business as Usual, Third Generation

by AnnaTaure



Series: A Family Business [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, And a Therapy, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Armitage Hux Needs A Hug, Armitage Hux is a Jerk, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemy Mine - Freeform, Eventual Smut, Explaining your plans, F/M, Force Ghosts, Imperial!Rey, M/M, Mentions of self-harm, Minor Character Death, Poe Dameron Needs A Hug, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Spying, another minor character death, mentions of torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-18
Updated: 2018-02-24
Packaged: 2019-02-03 21:52:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 41,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12756879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnaTaure/pseuds/AnnaTaure
Summary: As disquieting rumors disclose the existence of an Imperial faction hidden in the Unknown Regions, the new generation must face unexpected challenges and one Armitage Hux picks up the job his parents had left behind.





	1. the Show Must Go On

**Author's Note:**

> I would suggest to read About New partners first, else this one will not make much sense.

Jyn had had just as many reservations as Cassian about Armitage’s idea but he was an adult now, and though they could provide him with valuable advice, they could not prevent him from leaving and trying his hand at gathering intelligence.  


The young man packed his belongings again and set for the busiest space hubs in the Rim.  


Even if he lacked the official mastery documents, he was an engineer nonetheless, and a good one, so finding a job in an astroport was not difficult in itself. Keeping the job, however, was a bit more of a challenge, as his first employer proved to be as much a Republic fanatic as the Head of his former university. The second one, thankfully, did not mind and let him work in peace. The rest of the technical crew was friendly enough, as long as he minded his own business.  


Armitage had been stationed on Vakkar for about three months when he began hearing the first rumors. Fighters and transport ships coming from the Unknown Regions, attacking pirates and smugglers before retreating. That was new... It looked like someone was filling the void left by the demilitarization of most of the Republic fleet, with growing benefits. Curiosity could kill the lothcat, he knew, but he should go and learn more by himself rather than rely on rumors spread by more or less drunk navigators.  


He found a job as a mechanic on a cargo ship usually lurking at the edge of the Outer Rim for quite illegal operations; it was the only way to get close to the Unknown Regions without attracting unwanted attention. Luckily, he did not have to wait very long for his first hints at what was hiding there. A navigator recruited along with Hux had already traveled at length in that sector and had seen plenty of curious situations and unexpected people. His most recent discovery had been a small group of ships apparently mining in an asteroid field.  


“Didn't look like Republic stuff, nor private companies. No marking on the hull. So no pirates either, they love their flags and all that,” he told Armitage after several glasses of Corellian gin. “Some kind of military, that's fore sure, boy. Too organized for anything else.”  


The younger man tried to make him drink a bit more, but the navigator fell face first on the table after the fifth glass, causing Armitage to roll his eyes. _Kriffing lightweight. Well, at least I'm getting somewhere._  


This first trip did not bring much more, but he sent it to Cassian and Jyn nonetheless, hoping they could make something out of the few clues he had gathered.  


He spent another two months working on the huge freighter, before getting his first opportunity at approaching the mysterious Imperials. The captain wanted to add a shipment of ore to their cargo to maximize the profits for this trip, and he brought them to an uncharted world – at least uncharted on the Republic galactic maps – where they could buy, the man assured, something totally unheard of, brand new minerals that would sell a fortune on the black market. Armitage suspected that it would also cost them a fortune to buy, and that a cargo of it, providing the captain’s boasts held some truth, would drain their money dry for a while. Which meant that he could probably kiss his pay good bye as well. The trip was not a waste of time, nonetheless. The ore existed, and it was not anything Armitage had seen before. The thing, according to the trader selling it, was a superconductor working at ambient temperature, something that laboratories in the Core and the Colonies still had a hard time producing for moderate prices. The trader herself was a civilian but the young man noticed, lurking at the back of her shop, another individual wearing very strict and uniform-like clothes, all in a dark grey with no markings, black boots and a long coat, probably made of gabberwool. When that person realized they were being observed, they promptly left through a back door. _Well, aren’t we shy?_  


Armitage did not have enough money on him to buy even a sample, but he would steal a piece of it as soon as possible, and then quit this boring job to present his findings to Jyn and Cassian.  


Getting his sample, once they had gone back into the Rim, was ridiculously easy. His parents would cringe at the lousy security aboard the freighter. The cameras worked about a third of the time, at least those who did not miss parts ‘borrowed’ by the crew to repair something else, or to be sold in order to put a bit more bread on the table. And let’s not talk about the so-called bolts and locks on the doors. A child would have been able to break them. Armitage’s old schoolmates on Arkanis would have, certainly. So, two days before they reached their usual docking on Vakkar, he sneaked into the cargo hold, spotted the crate containing the ore and managed to open it without damaging the metal casing. Ten minutes later he was walking back to his bunk with a piece of rock the size of a tiny apple hidden under his jacket.  


The captain barely noticed when Armitage left the ship with his small bag and an even smaller amount of credits in his pockets. Well, it was not as if he had taken this job to make a fortune, and the sample he carried with him was probably worth more than all the paychecks he had received in the previous months. _Now, back to Takodana, at last._

* *

Maz had likely been warned of his return, since he found some of his favorite foods waiting for him on the kitchen table at home. The old pirate knew of his sweet tooth, among other things, and never failed to send some sugary foods to the Erso-Andor house whenever the prodigal son came back. His parents were waiting for him as well and he did not even had time to say ‘Good evening’ before he was pulled against his father’s chest, while his mother patted his head and kissed him right on the cheekbone, as she had always done since he was a child.  


“Oof… careful with my lungs, please.”  


“Oh, come on… What would you say if it was Baze, uh?”  


Armitage chuckled, before his stomach growled impatiently. Sometimes he could swear the thing had a mind of its own. Jyn laughed and mussed his hair as she pushed him towards a chair.  


“You eat first, and then, you’ll tell us everything, dear.”  


There were moments when Armitage found her a bit frightening, to be honest. He cast the thought aside to enjoy his dinner, vegetables from their garden, some fish from the nearest lake cooked in wine, delicious seasoning no doubt provided by one of Maz’s friends and the little pastries he had always been so fond of, sticky with honey and orange water, and stuffed with powdered almonds.  


They migrated towards the terrace overlooking the garden, leaving the dishes for the following morning. Once they were comfortably sitting on the bench, Armitage bracketed by his parents, the more serious discussion began. He took the rock sample from his pocket and handed it to Jyn, who was a bit more familiar than Cassian with minerals.  


“New stuff indeed,” she announced. “It’s remarkably light, and I’d say relatively easy to machine. How did you smuggle that thing?”  


He raised his hands in mock defense.  


“It's not smuggling if the goods in question are not banned, right?”  


“Let me guess,” his mother said. “You found them in the Unknown Regions?”  


He nodded.  


“Not cheap, but efficient.”  


Then the young man frowned.  


“Could you contact some of your old colleagues? I saw some things that should deserve their attention.”  


“Such as?”  


“I did not exactly find those ores by myself. Someone extracted and sold them.”  


The tone of his voice caught Cassian’s attention. It was about the same his informant had used decades ago when he had first mentioned a ‘planet-killer’ in the making. He leaned forward with an uneasy feeling in his stomach.  


“Who sold them?”  


Armitage bit the inside of his cheek.  


“I met them once. Imperials. Or at least, a faction of the old Empire.”  


“Describe them,” Cassian urged.  


“We should call Organa first, don’t you think?” Jyn suggested.  


Both men nodded. They all went back inside and activated the Holonet console Cassian had somehow obtained from the Alliance years ago; more likely, he borrowed it and they let him keep it as a part of his risk premium. Armitage had taken care of the old thing whenever he could and Jyn had kept it in working order while he was away; the console powered up immediately and connected them to the Holonet quickly enough.  


“I just hope it’s not night time wherever Organa is right now,” Jyn mumbled.  


It might have been, since the Princess turned Senator took her sweet time to answer the call and when she did, she looked like someone who had not gotten their mandatory cup of caf yet. It was strange seeing her without one of her famous Alderaanian hairstyles.  


“Well,” she muttered, “I can’t say I was expecting word from you three. What happened?”  


Armitage gave her a quick summary of his adventures near the Unknown Regions, Leia’s face growing more and more worried with each sentence.  


“What else can you tell me about these people?”  


“Not much. I know their uniform, but I didn’t get to talk to them, so far. If they are truly responsible for all the attacks against pirates in that sector of the Rim, however, they must have fighters, transport ships, perhaps something bigger. We should sent more spies over there to have a more precise picture.”  


She nodded, her mouth set into a grim line.  


“I’ll see who I can pick. Would you mind going back?” she asked Armitage.  


“Absolutely not. They don’t know me, so I can travel relatively freely there. Give me some days to rest a bit, and I’ll be back on the bridge.”  


“Thank you.”

* *

He granted himself four days before leaving again for the border between the Rim and the Unknown Regions, taking a job on a different ship. He wanted to find the source of the ore he had brought back, which Cassian had sent to a laboratory to determine its characteristics. It took him more than three weeks to find another trader selling samples, and a lot of alcohol to loosen their tongues and get the name and location of a mine. He almost exhausted all of his credits to book passage for that world and back, as most captains seemed wary of the place and its current owners. He managed to convince one by letting slip that he was very familiar with one of Saw Guerrera’s Partisans (not his proudest moment, to be honest). The Arcona was frightened enough to do as Armitage required.  


The world in question was isolated but not unpleasant, he decided after they had landed several kliks away from one of the mines. A bit cold in this season, though. Armitage reached a ridge overlooking the entrance of the mine and set to work.  


Through the binoculars, he watched what had just looked like a line of ants on the side of the hill. Miners, he saw, of different species. He could not spot guards, however, and some of the workers seemed to take time to rest and chat before going back into the line on the dusty trail. So perhaps not slaves. Whoever those Imperials 2.0 were, they probably did not have the troops to arrest, deport and control enslaved workers, anyway. Good to know. He took several pictures and the coordinates of the mine before going back to the ship, constantly looking over his shoulder to make sure he was not followed. The captain was obviously relieved to get away as fast as possible. There was no ship orbiting the planet to guard it. If they had destroyers or corvettes, those were busy somewhere else.  


Armitage was congratulating himself for a job well done when his comlink pinged with a new message. Short, and definitely the last he wanted to read.  


_Cassian sick. Come back._

* *  
The worst of it, he was not even surprised. His father's health had been slowly but steadily worsening for the past two years. The many injuries he had sustained during his career were finally catching up with him. It was only a matter of time now, as Cassian had always refused any treatment to artificially lengthen his life. Armitage had tried for a long time to reconcile with it, but the thought of being orphaned a second time was enough to give him insomnia for days in a row. As far as chosen families went, Cassian and Jyn had been close to perfection. After his first, rough years on Arkanis, Armitage had been properly raised, loved, cherished even, though his adoptive parents were both rather awkward at expressing emotions sometimes.  


The travel back to Takodana felt awfully long and slow.  


He reached the house in the early evening and found it dark and still. Fearing the worst, he climbed up the stairs and rushed to his parents’ room. Cassian was asleep, his chest rising and falling regularly, Jyn watching over him from her seat near the window.  


“How is he?” Armitage blurted out, letting his travel bag fall onto the floor.  


“Getting worse,” she replied, “slowly but steadily. He can’t get up anymore. The medic gave him medication for the pain but… that’s it. He’s always said that he cheated death more than enough, and that he had a long overdue meeting with the old bastard.”  


Armitage swallowed. Cassian had never been particularly bulky, but now he looked so… frail, emaciated. The younger man walked to the bed and carefully sat besides his father.  


“How long?” he asked.  


“It’s a matter of days, now. We can just do our best to keep him comfortable.”  


He let out a long sigh. Jyn rose from her seat and held him against her chest. She had been less prone than Cassian to give him hugs or kiss him, but the touch was very welcome nonetheless, grounding somehow.  


“The radiations from the Death Star blast did not help,” she added as an afterthought.  


Armitage felt a sudden chill. She had been exposed to those radiations as well…  


“Do you want to stay with him a little bit? I’ll fix us something.”  


“Thank you.”  


She left him alone with Cassian. He took his father’s hand in his, noting how the bones showed under the pale skin. Cassian groaned and blinked several times, his gaze slowly focusing on Armitage.  


“I’m sorry I woke you. I’ll...”  


“Stay,” Cassian whispered. “I’m glad you could come back soon enough.”  


He reached to touch his son’s cheek.  


“Did you get what you needed?”  


“Yes, Papa. I got it. I’ll go and see Organa as soon as possible.”  


“Good.”  


Cassian coughed harshly.  


“I’d hoped we would have more time, all three of us, you know. I… ‘ve enjoyed being a father. A lot.”  


“Yeah, I kind of noticed,” Armitage deadpanned. “And Jyn looked like she was taking care of two kids instead of one, sometimes.”  


Cassian chuckled at that. He _had_ acted a tad bit irresponsibly once or twice, trying to find some pieces of the childhood he had lost so early.  


“I’m very proud of you, and everything you’ve already done. I can only… imagine what you’ll do next. I’m sure it’s going to be… truly beautiful.”  


“Force only knows where I would be now without both of you,” the younger man pointed out.  


“And where we would be without you as well… Not sure if Jyn told you, but you were born on the same day the battle of Scarif occurred. She’s not... really superstitious, but she took it as a sign. We were all given life, or a new life, on the same day.”  


“I knew about the date, but she’s never mentioned the meaning behind it. Probably didn’t want me to feel… weighed down with it.”  


Cassian nodded.  


“Some piece of advice for you: never give a shit about what people think about you. Find yourself a nice girl, or boy, that you want to spend the rest of your life with, no matter how weird the circumstances of your first meeting...”  


“Speaking from experience, eh?”  


“Right. And don’t let your job consume you. I made that mistake once. If you had met me before Jyn appeared in my life, you wouldn’t have liked me. At all.”  


Armitage nodded. He had discussed it discreetly with Jyn, Luke and Wedge, and knew what kind of man Cassian had been prior to that infamous mission on Jedha.  


“ ‘m sorry…” Cassian mumbled. “I’m so tired...”  


“Don’t worry. I understand.”  


Armitage bent down to gently kiss his father’s forehead and quietly left the room, heading for the kitchen. Jyn was chopping vegetables for a soup, and he went to help her, heating the pot and selecting some seasoning for their meal. He did his best not to stare at her as she sniffed loudly, not to touch her. She would have hated it.  


“I’ve known him for twenty-four years, and we’ve been together for twenty-two. I suppose asking for more would have been greedy, considering we should have died on Scarif. That’s the longest anyone has ever stayed with me,” she added after a pause.  


She turned towards him, eyes bright with unshed tears.  


“If it had just been the two of us,” she admitted, “I would follow him here and now. But leaving you alone when you've just begun such a dangerous work... that would be totally selfish, irresponsible. Despicable. I'll hold on for as long as I can.”  


She squeezed his hand lightly and he slowly wrapped his arms around her slight frame.  


“And how long will that be?” he murmured, his own fingers tightening around her braid.  


“I was not as... damaged as your father, but my health is not optimal either. I don't know, little fox. I don't know.”  


She could not have given him a more frightening answer. The thought of being alone in the world was terrifying. 

* *

Cassian died six days later.


	2. Another Light in Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Armitage is 24, Poe 22 and Jyn 47, for the record.

In a rare fit of gallows humor, Cassian had once requested to be buried in the vegetables garden so he could be useful one more time, even after death. Though the idea made them both chuckle and shake their head, Jyn and Armitage decided to set him on the slopes of a hill overlooking the lake, with a good view on Maz’s castle and the forest around it. As far as resting places went, this one was quiet, pleasant and lovely. He would have liked it.  


“I’m the memory of Rogue One,” Jyn commented after the burial, which had been attended by Maz, Luke, Wedge and some of the surviving members of Rogue Squadron. “I’m the last living agent of the team.”  


“Perhaps you should write your story down, so that it’s not completely forgotten, or doesn’t turn into a fancy legend, what do you think?” Luke suggested. “I know from my research that the more written sources you have, the better. And even that may not be enough.”  


Jyn nodded, pondering the idea. He was not wrong, she thought. Who knew what would happen in the distant future? Even the Jedi archives had been scattered or destroyed, and she did not have their means of preserving the past. Writing sounded good, though her education was somewhat lacking and she was not sure her style would make for a captivating reading.  


“It’s a history book, not a novel,” Armitage pointed out. “But if you want to send my your drafts while I’m in the Core, you’re more than welcome.”  


He had chosen to go back to the capitol for a while, to get back into the swing of things, gain contacts and possibly spy on Centrists senators to get some more tips about those Imperials sneaking back into the Rim. Jyn was reluctant to let him go so soon but despite the relative discretion of her work for the Alliance, her face was known enough to make her own attempts at spying moot.  


Barely a month after his father’s death, Armitage was back in the Core, settling in the temporary capitol of the New Republic. The Senate had decided to relocate on a different world for every new session, so they would spend a year on each planet affiliated to the Republic. Armitage understood that they wanted to cut ties with Coruscant and the dreadful events that had taken place there, but this constant rearrangement cost a lot of credits and made the senators themselves vulnerable, as it always took some days to reinstate a fully operational security force around the Senate buildings.  


On the other hand, there was not shortage of jobs for technicians and engineers in said buildings, to improve security, update softwares and so on… so Armitage quickly found himself working in rather close contact with politicians, and he let his ears and eyes wide open while he went through his daily tasks.  


He crossed paths with Organa from time to time, but she pretended not to recognize him and he never tried to directly talk to her, except for ‘Good morning’ or ‘Have a nice day’. He would transmit what he had gathered anonymously so no one would know the good Princess had hidden a spy among her colleagues. He doubted he was the only one, anyway. Her assistants were certainly picking intel whenever they could.

* *

If his professional life was rather satisfying, the personal part looked rather lonely. There had been several short-lived relationships with guys and girls from university first, and then work, but so far he had not found anyone worth a more permanent commitment.  


In order to appear a bit more social, he frequently accepted invitations to go out for a drink, or to a social event organized by one of the senators, which often extended to the Senate staff as well, more to make the host look generous and non-discriminating than by real consideration. He did not like dressing up for those evenings but the food and drinks were top-notch. The advantage of those gatherings was that he could talk to Organa or directly transmit his findings without raising any suspicion.  


During one of those parties, the Princess brought with her several promising young people she had more or less taken under her wing, such as Korr Sella, a hard-working politician apprentice (a kind soul nonetheless, who earned Armitage’s trust rather quickly), and some pilots and young officers. He cast a quick glance in their direction and almost dropped his glass. Force, but Poe Dameron had certainly grown into a very... handsome individual... His messy black hair now curled nicely around his face and he definitely did not look like a beanpole anymore. Armitage discreetly pinched his arm in order to reconnect with reality and not make a fool of himself. Poe spotted him quickly enough thanks to his hair color and greeted him with a warm smile, hugging him until Armitage thought his ribs would crack under the pressure.  


“Glad to see you again as well, Dameron,” he huffed. “The years have certainly been kind to you.”  


“You don’t look that bad either, you know. I heard about what happened with the university. How are you doing now?”  


“Odd jobs here and there. I found something more stable with the Senate techs. At least the transport is free, this way.”  


Poe chuckled.  


“I joined the Fleet,” he said. “I’m piloting X-Wings. Nothing too important for now, but who knows?”  


A bit later, he would think back on it and remember that Armitage had seemed a bit disappointed by his decision, but had not commented on it.  


“I do hope you’ll never cross paths with something of importance. I’ve already lost enough people as it is.”  


Poe patted his shoulder as he used to do when they were children.  


“Master Luke and Commander Antilles told us about your father. Is there anything we can do?”  


“Apart from your father sending plants to Jyn as usual, not much I’m afraid. She still won’t accept comfort easily. Not from someone… who’s not Cassian. And with Mothma dead as well, I’m not sure she completely trusts anyone from the Core.”  


Poe sighed.  


“But if there’s anything I can do for _you_ , tell me,” the younger man insisted.  


“Well, if your training gives you the opportunity, you may come to my workshop if you wish so. I’m usually stuck there repairing some device, so feel free.”

* *

Poe made good one that suggestion less than a week later. He had some trouble navigating the maze of stairs, lifts and corridors under the Senate building but after a while he finally reached his destination.  


The room that served as Armitage's workshop and office was the biggest mess Poe had ever seen in his life, and that included his own room as a teenager. There were blueprints for imaginary ships pinned everywhere, a galactic map glowing on the ceiling, a very old and battered plush tooka doll sitting on a shelf and several potted cactus at apparently random but in fact strategic locations. And let's not forget the mouse droid guarding the door, of course. The little thing biped and whirred repeatedly when the young man tried to enter the room, bumping several times into his ankles until he gave in and called his friend.  


“Tage?”  


_Boom_  


“Ouch! The fuck?! If I put the kriffing droid on the threshold, there's a bloody good reason for that!”  


Armitage's voice came from somewhere under the workbench and Poe's call had apparently caused him to bump his head, on top of interrupting his daily engineering session, something akin to meditation for a Jedi, or so he claimed. In other words, Poe was suddenly less certain about the welcome he would receive.  


“Err... Tage? You all right?”  


The redhead finally emerged, furiously rubbing the top of his head. His angry expression softened somewhat when he discovered Poe awkwardly standing on the doorstep, the mouse droid still twirling angrily around him. Armitage whistled and the droid immediately zipped back to him, allowing Poe to enter. The redhead was clearly amused in spite of the bump that was probably growing on his head.  


“The fearless pilot held up by a tiny droid,” he drawled. “So, what brings you to my lair, Dameron?”  


Poe stepped carefully into the room, avoiding a datapad here and a bottle of ink there, until he reached the workbench.  


“They've just launched the T-70, and I wanted your opinion on it... perhaps before I give it a try...”  


Armitage rolled his eyes. Of course Poe would want a chance to fly the brand new X-Wing that had just been delivered to the fleet. But then again, Armitage would not say no to a 'personalized' visit. He was too tall to fit in the fighter with Poe, however.  


“No problem. Tell me when I can visit.”  


That was how Armitage found himself in one of the Fleet’s hangars in the suburbs, Poe walking him towards a fighter covered by a large, dark tarp. The pilot uncovered the ship with a flourish.  


“What do you think?” Poe asked, enthusiasm shining in his dark eyes.  


Though he was not a fan of spaceships, except to make or repair them, Armitage had to admit the new X-Wing looked quite dashing. Just like its pilot, come to think about it.  


“The hull still looks a lot like the old T65, but I suppose they modified the propulsion and other parts, right?”  


Poe nodded enthusiastically.  


“Yeah! They managed to pack more reserves so that the ship's autonomy has increased by about 15%. The shields are more efficient, too.”  


Armitage nodded, walking slowly around the fighter to look for more differences.  


“The slot for the astromech seems smaller,” he pointed out after some minutes.  


The pilot smiled.  


“Knew you would spot it. They're preparing a new version, something more compact than the old R2 to R5 models.”  


Hux hoisted himself on the cabin to get a better look.  


“Small and spherical, from what I see. Perhaps it’ll be more difficult to shoot, this way.”  


“We should hope so,” Poe agreed. “You want to eat something, or have a drink?”  


“Taking me on a date, Mr Dameron?”  


He chuckled when the younger man flushed red. Despite his charming behavior, Poe could still be rather shy when asked direct questions. Armitage got his lunch nonetheless, and if this one was not a date, the following certainly looked like it. And the next one. And the night after that…

* * 

Naturally, Jyn wanted to know everything about his life in the Core, Dameron included.  


“You don't seem so pleased to see him again,” his mother pointed out during one of their online discussions.  


Armitage shook his head.  


“Dameron, I'll never complain about. But his career choice... I know, I know... It's the Wookie calling the bantha hairy, but still... he desperately wants to honor Shara's memory and I'm afraid Organa and her friends in the military are using this to their benefit. That and the way younger pilots worship the 'heroes of the Alliance'. They want to play at war but most of them only heard about the fun in flying, not how your wingman can be disintegrated by a shot.”  


Jyn pinched the bridge of her nose.  


“I concur; those are the worst. It could deter other people from joining Organa's campaign to keep those Imperial wannabes in check.”  


“But not you,” he pointed out with a smirk.  


Jyn gave him a wry smile.  


“Of course not. I'll do it my way, however. The fewer interactions I have with the newbies, the better. You can still bring your pilot home if you want, nonetheless.”  


He was not sure that submitting Poe to Jyn's grilling would be such a good idea.

* *

Armitage learned a lot of things about Poe during the following weeks. Some were expected, such as his career plans and wish to carry on his mother’s legacy. But there was a more discreet darker part to the pilot that took the other man by surprise. Poe seemed an easy-going individual but at night, when he was not in public any more, he clung to Armitage tightly, afraid to lose him the same way he had lost his mother and several of his friends. There were not much to be done in those moments, apart from holding him and gently petting his hair until he calmed down and went to sleep. Only then would the redhead untangle himself from Poe to go back to his own quarters. Progressively, he began to stay the whole night. Then they ate breakfast together. Armitage progressively abandoned his tiny room near the Senate building for Poe’s place, but it was too small for both of them.  


Moving together was just the logical transition. They had found a nice, if somewhat old flat in the suburbs that was in their affordable price range and bought it without, let's be honest, really thinking about the far future or how long their relationship would last. Not that Armitage minded much, to be honest. Waking up every morning in a nest of blankets with a warm body by his side was definitely one of his favorite moments in the day.  


The reality of his alternative job caught up with him sooner than he would have liked, however.

* *

Leia Organa was holding a meeting with some officers who, like her disapproved the disarmament of the Republican fleet and were extremely worried about a resurgence of the Empire out of the Republic’s zone of influence.  


“We need someone inside. What we gather from informants in the Rim is not enough,” Ematt argued with Leia. “Your boy could give a believable cover story. His expulsion from university would be useful in that context.”  


“I know our options are limited,” Ackbar commented, “but I don't like it. What if Brendol Hux is still alive and working for this 'First Order'? What do you think will happen to this poor boy should his father recognize and report him?”  


Brance sighed.  


“He's our only operative with some Imperial connections who's not been associated with any of us. Cassian Andor and Jyn Erso are hardly popular figures, and I don't see how Brendol Hux could have kept track of his son, or why he would have done it. He left him behind, after all.”  


The other officers nodded, though they were not particularly fond of the idea either. Unfortunately, they lacked both funds and staff to provide Armitage with a backup. Now, Leia thought, they just had to convince the young engineer to leave the Core and his cover job in the Senate… and Poe.  


He looked more resigned than anything when she contacted him.  


“You don’t have to leave immediately. But if their forces keep on advancing into the Rim at the same pace, we’ll have to send you.”  


“I understand,” he sighed.  


“So you will take the job?”  


“Of course. Just don't tell Poe. He's playing mother hen enough already, as it is.”  


She chuckled.  


“He worries for his loved ones first, and then for himself. That's how he is.”  


“My point,” Armitage said grimly. “I can tell him I need to take time to think about everything, before moving one step further, or get my mother to play along. I hate lying to him but as my boyfriend, he makes a rather obvious weak link.”  


“Don’t I know that...”  


“Do you mind if I go to Takodana first to inform Jyn of this development? I wouldn’t want our conversation to be overheard… by anyone.”  


“Of course.”

* * 

His stay in his mother’s home was brief, as the Senate would move soon to another world and he still had Centrists to spy on. Jyn did not let him go without a present, however.  


“It probably sound silly, but I think you should take this,” she said, dangling the kyber crystal in front of him. “I don't know if that thing is connected to the Force as Chirrut would pretend, but it's always been our lucky charm, so I suggest you keep it... until you come back safe.”  


He took the small pendant, turning the shiny white stone between his fingers, his only physical link to a grandmother he had never met.


	3. Pretend it Never Happened

Armitage turned twenty-five, still busying himself with checking everything that came and went from the Centrists and the systems they represented. He had abandoned the search in their communications and personal data to focus on their finances. Tax audit was the oldest and most efficient way to know if anyone was hiding an operation or laundering money. He thought he was getting into something interesting. Several Senators, though they had officially cut all ties with Imperial remnants, were sending funds over to their homeworlds, officially for charities or building some playgrounds for their electors’ children, but when you added all the sums diverted this way, you reached astronomical proportions. With such an amount of money one could at least buy or build two cruisers. Of course, when they had been embezzling funds for almost two decades… His next task would be to discover who had benefited from that money, and how they had spent it.  


Upon these findings, he was called for a report before Organa and some of her supporters in the military. There were precious few of them: vice-admiral Statura, Major Ematt, Captain Brance and two squadron leaders. To his relief, Poe was not among the group.  


He talked about his most recent findings first and was allowed to carry on his inquiry and to focus more on the recipients of the credits. If they could prove beyond a doubt that the Centrists were paying shipyards to built new destroyers or fighters, that would greatly undermine their influence on the Senate.  


“And regarding those military forces themselves, what do you think?” Statura then asked Armitage.  


“I’m not exactly an expert, sir,” he objected.  


“I know that but I would like your opinion nonetheless. Do you think guerrilla or open war would deter them?”  


Hux shook his head.  


“I would not face them head-on. They have gathered a lot of support in the Outer Rim and I think it would be more efficient to cut the root cause of this support before attacking them.”  


Statura nodded and signaled him to go on. Hux cleared his throat and added:  


“Pirates, smugglers and slavers are thriving in the Rim. Due to the decrease of the Republic military forces, they can act pretty much as they please, which hampers greatly the economy in that sector.”  


A mumble of agreement rose from his audience. This was not the first report to mention such issues. In some places, it was even worse than during Jabba's time. Colonies had been the first, easiest targets, but some worlds in the Mid-Rim were being harassed by pirates too. So if a new military force appeared and played savior…  


“The Republic is not so loved in those parts of the galaxy. People feel… left behind. They need more than just promises and if we can’t manage to bring them some support, we’re going to lose them for good.”  


“Figured you would say that,” Ematt snorted.  


“And what is _that_ supposed to mean?” Armitage snapped. “You're going to question my loyalty _again_ because you don't like my reports? By all means, Sir, take your fat ass out of this seat and do my job, see if you get more pleasant results!”  


“Enough, both of you!” Leia ordered, slamming her palm on the desk. “Armitage, don’t be so prompt to take the bait. And Ematt, stop harassing him over his father, will you?”  


Both men fell silent, though the looks they exchanged promised retaliation. 

* *

The ongoing, if petty, quarrel between them was promptly forgotten several weeks later, however, when two Centrist senators dropped a metaphorical bomb that reduced Organa’s efforts to dust.  


Poe and Armitage were at home, watching the evening news, when the presenter interrupted her speech for, as she said, ‘an incredible, cataclysmic event’ at the Senate session.  


There were cameras in the main room to record and broadcast the discussions and various interventions, so they had an excellent view of senator Casterfo announcing to his bewildered colleagues that Leia Organa was no less than the daughter of Darth Vader. Poe almost slid from his chair in shock while Aarmitage noticed another Centrist, Carise Sindian, looking particularly smug in her stand. To think that… person represented his homeworld…  


They were both staring at the screen, blinking owlishly as if it would make everything vanish like a bad dream.  


“Oh shit...” Poe muttered.  


“Shit indeed,” Armitage echoed. “That was certainly unexpected.”  


And the way so many members of the former Alliance were obsessed over lineages and whose parent had done what during the war, they would probably lose a good deal of their potential troops thanks to Carise Sindian’s indiscretions and Bail Organa’s lack of foresight. Armitage blinked again, trying to superpose the picture of Anakin Skywalker to the massive black cyborg he had seen once on Arkanis. Vader had been polite enough, he remembered, and had not mentioned their brief encounter to the Commandant, which had been a huge relief for the little boy.  


“What are we going to do, now?” Poe groaned. “There’s no way she’ll be able to keep her seat with such a… thing in the open.”  


“We’ll meet her as soon as possible, and see what she proposes. And who remains by her side...”  


They did not get much sleep that night.

* *

Armitage received a call from Leia three days later, after Poe had already gone to her office, under the guise of helping her and her secretary to pack. This way, the pilot would never know what his partner was doing for the (now former) senator.  


He had expected to find her fuming, but she was remarkably calm about the whole mess.  


“It was bound to happen,” she simply said. “I’m afraid we’ll have to send you out sooner that we had planned. All the most moderate members of the Centrist party have been eliminated, one way or the other, and those who remain won’t trust you. My biological father found a way to ruin my work even from beyond the grave...” she muttered then.  


_Now that’s a bit unfair. Stop blaming the man for every single misfortune that befalls you. He’s dead and incinerated, Force above! Wish I could say the same about mine._  


“I’ve been there,” he said instead.  


“And I’ve been guilty of the same silly behavior in my youth.”  


She smiled sadly.  


“I must admit that I did not have the best of relationships with your mother at first,” she admitted. “I was grieving for a whole planet, and her father had created that weapon. Not very rational, I know.”  


“At least you got better.”  


Leia chuckled.  


“You're very forgiving,” she said.  


He shrugged. The way he looked at her meant _I’m not_.  


“I call that growing up,” he told her, smirking, which Leia answered with a wink and a bright smile.  


She loved playing the part of the eccentric and shameless old lady, he had noticed, an act that caused some to dismiss her as going senile. To be honest, he enjoyed playing along with her, as it was a good trick to improve his own skills.  


He felt very cold, suddenly, when he realized that he would have to use said skills in staging a believable breakup with Poe so they could both work for Organa without being a threat to each other’s task.

* *

As it happened, he did not have to stage anything in the end.  


Things were growing a bit tense at home. Poe seemed to consider any critics regarding the Republic as an insult to his late mother and Armitage suspected some of his friends in the squadron had a responsibility in that. It had taken about a month before Armitage had stopped being invited to the weekly dinner they hosted in turns, while the other pilots' spouses and partners were still welcomed with open arms. They did not want him around, probably courtesy of Snap Wexley, but Armitage could not ask Poe to cut ties with his friends, as he was also working with them, and apart from his squadron, did not seem to have that many relations. Isolating him would be horribly selfish and detrimental for his safety.  


This dissension reached its peak when the two men began to argue right in the middle of one of the senatorial antechambers, one evening when Poe had come to pick Armitage at work. It had started innocently enough with comments on the most recent financial law and quickly escalated as both men refused to budge from their respective position. They had at least enough common sense to leave and go back to their apartment to finish their quarrel.  


“You ridiculed me in front of… about half the Senate!” Armitage barked as soon as they entered. “They are my employers, Force above! How am I even going to get back to work on tomorrow?”  


“I was angry at...”  


“You were angry that I professed a different opinion, and you did not mean anything you said. Yeah. Right. Like I never heard this one before. At least Brendol did me the courtesy of never spouting that kind of nonsense after he beat me.”  


Poe clenched his teeth over an insult.  


“First, don’t compare me to your jerkass of a father, and second, if you can’t stand the Republic that much, why the Hell do you still serve it?”  


“For fuck's sake, could you stop seeing the world in black and white for a moment, please? How old are you?”  


“Old enough to know compromises are the first step to defeat.”  


“My point, Dameron. You call the other side a bunch of fanatics, but you’re barely better! When are you going to understand that criticizing your bloody Republic does NOT mean siding with the enemy?”  


“Wouldn’t want to waste your time with a fanatic, _Mr Hux_. I’ll join the rest of my team in the barracks. Don’t bother picking me there.”  


“What? Oh, you’re right. Leave until you have cooled down a bit.”  


“I was thinking more permanently.”  


Armitage had no time to reply before Poe grabbed his bag and left the apartment. Had it been possible, he would probably have slammed the door behind him. Armitage let himself fall gracelessly on a chair, trying to understand what had just happened.  


This was not the first time a discussion about politics turned into a row, but this one had been the worst so far. To be expected, Armitage tried to rationalize. Poe had been raised by celebrated heroes, not by underdogs who did all the dirty jobs that no one mentioned afterward. Of course he would be an idealist. And...  


And then Hux could not think clearly any more. He felt as if a giant hand was suffocating him. Poe was his last anchor to a somewhat normal life. Without the pilot he would have no one to truly care about him. His co-workers liked him well enough, but they would not come home early if he was sick, never listen to his rants or share a night of stargazing with him…  


He left the apartment, unable to stay there anymore, feeling sick.  


Once outside, he wrote a short message to Captain Brance and sent it before he could have second thoughts. The reply arrived quickly. He stared at the lines on his datapad. Why should he hesitate, after all? He had nothing left in the Republic. His father was dead, his mother was working for the same organization as he did, he could not hold a job for more than a few months because of his name and Poe had made it clear what he thought of him.

* *

When Poe came back at last to the flat with a long list of apologies in mind and a bottle of fine wine as a gift for Armitage, he found the place empty. Armitage’s coat was not hanging besides the door, and as the pilot opened the cupboards, he found that all of his lover’s things: clothes, datapad, gadgets... had vanished along with their owner.  


After a quick check, he was not at his office either, nor on a construction site. He had not contacted movers and no one had seen him at the spatioport. So he had left through a private shuttle pad. Or he had been mugged and his body was lying in some gutter. Poe went to the local security station, but no red-haired man had been found dead on that day, and though the officer promised to warn him if they had anything new, he did not hold much hope.  


If his teammates thought he would get better after Hux's departure, they were disappointed. Poe progressively grew more detached, cold even, treating everything as just a job to be done and living only for his missions.

* *

Two months after his abrupt departure, Hux was close to his goal. He had followed the money, as any good detective would, and found the firm which had received the largest part of the Centrists’ ‘charities’.  


He felt his hair rise on the back of his neck when he saw what they produced. _Gestation tanks..._ He had to send this to the Resistance, and possibly to Master Skywalker, asap. Now he knew how Commandant Hux’s Project Harvester had evolved. He needed more data, though. Digging into the firm’s old servers would not be enough. He needed to access the newest ones, preferably from the inside.  


This kind of technology was usually employed on colony worlds or planets that had been struck by a pandemic in order to repopulate them faster. But this particular lot seemed to have vanished at some point during their transport, never to reappear anywhere in the known space. Of course, the cargo could have been stolen by pirates and sold on the black market, but that kind of medical supplies could not remain hidden for long. So, the Unknown Regions? Were they trying to produce a new clone army? That would contradict his father's vision for the Imperial soldier of the future, but perhaps the old jerk had fallen out of favor with his new masters.  


There was a risk he could cross paths with his biological father, of course, and with his hair and built the old jerk would probably be able to identify him easily. He would have to take care of that issue, should it arise. Brendol Hux would only be a threat to the credibility of his cover story. Well, he would face that problem when it arose. For now, he had to get himself recruited.  


He managed it faster than he had imagined. The new power moving at the fringes of the Rim, that called itself the First Order, was in constant need of new employees, technicians, engineers, farmers… The posters on the walls, either in the streets or in the cantinas, provided easy means of contacting them, or at least, the people they put on stage to represent them. Someone with Armitage’s work experience was more than welcome, though they were surprised to hear him admit that he had been raised in the Republic and stayed there until recently. He had decided to use the truth as much as he could; fewer lies meant fewer things to remember.  


The day he passed an interview, there was only one other man with him and after this one was called, Armitage did not see him again. A woman came to fetch him minutes later. She was dressed in civilian clothes, though her behavior made him think of a veteran. She asked him some basic questions: name, age, place of birth, residence, relations… When he replied he tried to convey the impression of someone honest but impressed by the setting and perhaps a bit shy. The interview lasted for about twenty minutes before she switched her datapad off and rose from her chair.  


“You will tell Major Arden your story,” the woman said in lieu of 'good bye'.  


“But... I've just told you...”  


“You did. We just want to make sure that you did not... forget anything.”  


Armitage remained frozen in place for a second before he followed the officer. He hid his hands in the pockets of his coat, not wanting anyone to see how badly they shook. _Let me pass this test, please. Else all the rest will have been for naught._ Instinctively, he reached for the tiny crystal hidden under his shirt and clutched it tightly for a moment. The woman stopped at an intersection and activated an intercom to call for some soldiers to fetch a prisoner.  


When the troopers came to lead him to an interrogation room, he did not resist and followed them meekly enough.  


The room was just as sinister as he had imagined: black metal walls, crude lights and a kind of chair equipped with all sorts of devices coming straight out of a nightmare. A man in a grey uniform, probably Major Arden, considered him for a moment before ordering:  


“Take everything metallic off.”  


So they were going to use electricity as well as drugs.  


“Sit here,” the man told him. “Nothing but standard procedure.”  


“I understand,” Hux muttered. “Though I wish you had something else.”  


The officer shrugged, strapped him to the chair without commenting and switched his console on, heartbeat and brainwaves appearing as thin colored lines on the screen.  


“Name?” he asked.  


“Armitage Hux.”  


“Age?”  


“Twenty-six standard years.”  


“Place of birth?”  


“Arkanis.”  


“Father's name?”  


“Commandant Brendol Hux.”  


“Mother's name?”  


“I don't know.”  


“This is not the correct answer,” the officer said flatly, pressing a button.  


The first jolts of electricity coursed through Hux's muscles, leaving him trembling in his bindings, trying to find his breath.  


“It's the truth,” he coughed. “She left when I was two or three... never knew her name...”  


The Major raised an eyebrow and took some notes but did not comment further on the topic.  


“Next question...”

* *

The pair of stormtroopers who had escorted him to the room took him out four hours later and had to carry him to his cell, being careful not to jolt him too much. They did not know what conclusion the higher-ups had reached for him, but they did not wish to damage him too much in any case.


	4. Black Mirror

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's possible I have messed up a bit the official timeline with this chapter, with Kylo Ren joining the Order perhaps a bit sooner than in canon.

Hux spent a week in custody, alternating between interrogations and isolation until he was deemed safe enough for release. They did not send him to their fleet immediately, however. First he was affected to a repair station on a world at the border between the Rim and the Unknown Regions where his skills were observed and tested regularly. He knew they watched _him_ as well for any sign of deceit. He did not call anyone for weeks, did not check his mail on his Holonet account… he went to work, ate and sleep, and nothing else. Distractions were few and far between, and the time off in the mess hall could not be considered as such. The tea they had in the workers’ mess was decent. The caf, however, tasted as if someone had washed their dirty doormat and used the water to brew an ersatz. He would rather not consider the food; even Jyn’s cooking was not _that_ awful.  


The longer he remained in post without interference from his superiors, the more his behavior changed.  


He became Brendol's son, as he had never been before. He was Hux now, not Armitage. Armitage was the curious, friendly boy who belonged in the woods of Takodana and Maz's castle, and a man who would fall asleep and wake every day in his lover's arms. Hux had no one and nothing apart from his job. He could take you to bed but would kick you out of it the minute he was done. Nothing more than a block of ice. His attitude kept most of his colleagues away and thus he had fewer regrets when it came to betraying them.  


Apparently, his superiors approved and after eight weeks on the station, he was deemed safe enough to be transferred further into the First Order territory. He was affected to a small cruiser that ranged on the borders of their domain, not quite what he needed but an improvement.  


After a month aboard, he inquired about his biological father, playing it as if he had needed all this time to gather his courage. The reply he received was reassuring: Brendol Hux had passed away several years ago, about at the same time Admiral Sloane had stepped aside for Supreme Leader Snoke. In other words, Hux thought, Snoke had overthrown Sloane, who had managed to flee but not without killing Brendol Hux, whose loyalty would have been a fickle thing.

* *

Months later, Hux could barely recognize himself in the mirror of the communal refresher shared by the engineers and technicians of the _Watcher_. Beards were not allowed but he looked way older than his nearly twenty-seven years nonetheless. There were shadows under his eyes, his cheekbones were more prominent than ever and his reflection in the glass seemed… almost mechanical, as if his intellect had been taken out of his body to be stored into a droid version of himself. Boredom also played a part in his transformation. Nothing special had happened.  


Until they received reinforcements from another ship for a mission against pirates in the Outer Rim. Among the fighters reassigned to their unit, Hux noticed some unusual-looking TIE-fighters. He would certainly spend a good deal of time studying these new babies. The design itself had not changed much but the insides of the fighter and the pilot's safety had been, according to another engineer, greatly improved. _That's a first. The old Empire would not have bothered._ It made sense, though. Unlike the Empire, the First Order could not recruit troops from a whole galaxy. They had chosen quality over quantity and consequently had to take some care of their soldiers in order not to lose a costly investment.  


He took double shifts during the squadron’s stay and finally, when he was almost ready to collapse from exhaustion, his hard work paid and his employers recommended him for a job in the main fleet. His nails were nearly non-existent after hours and hours spent laboring on engines, he had not slept properly in days, if not weeks, but at last he was getting what he had been aiming for.

* *

When he saw the _Finalizer_ for the first time, not yet out of its dry dock, Hux considered that he _might_ have bitten something a tad too large for him to chew. Then he reminded himself that if his parents could deal with two Death Stars, he could deal with a star destroyer, albeit a brand-new and very threatening one. Further inspection told him that the First Order had changed the design of those ships as well. Their shield generators were safe inside the hull, for a start, rather than sticking out from it like sitting ducks. He suspected the command center had at least one or two backups as well.  


Along with the other recruits, he was led into the ship’s maze of corridors as soon as their shuttle had safely landed in its hangar. The good old Imperial style was still in use, Hux noticed. Sleek black metal, dull grey panels… and white armors everywhere. The helmets were slightly different from the old ones, but you could not mistake those soldiers with any other army.  


The group was left to their own devices in their new dormitory for a few hours and Hux sighed. He would have close to zero privacy there, so sending messages from his bunk was completely out of question. He would have to do that from a console in the shipyard until the _Finalizer_ was ready to leave.  


Hux managed to send two encrypted communications to Organa, doing so during the busiest hours of the day so his transmissions would remain beneath the radar, telling her of his most recent discoveries and signaling that the _Finalizer_ was not, by far, the only star destroyer the First Order would or had already launched. Both messages were sent in less than five minutes and Hux went back to his duties afterward, trying to get used to the strict schedule and rationing that took place in the huge starship. The food was… indescribable at best, once again, and he thought he would not be gaining any weight during his stay. The worst to get used to was the cold. Had he stayed with his biological father, he would have grown up on spaceships and not been bothered so much by the temperatures, but he had been raised in a relatively temperate climate and during the first weeks on board, he spent the nights shivering under his blanket.

* *

While he harvested the equivalent of a library worth of knowledge on fighters and ships, Hux could not find much about the First Order’s head honcho. Supreme Leader Snoke was a mysterious figure at best. The high command and the Knights of Ren alone could see him face to face and relayed his orders to the rest of the army. No one else had even seen a hologram of him, though there were rumors that he was, in fact, non-human. Force-sensitive, it went without saying, and worse than Vader when it came to incompetent or just unlucky underlings. General Kaplan was in charge of the propaganda and speeches, most of them sounding rather tedious in Hux's opinion.  


As boring as he was, Kaplan had the advantage of not being able to read your mind, and Hux would take that over a Force-user anytime.  


The situation changed, however, when the _Finalizer_ was launched for her first trip in the Outer Rim.  


There was a flurry of activity as some of the guests’ quarters were fitted for permanent use.  


“Who’s joining the crew?” Hux asked Captain Phasma, the leader of the ship’s squadrons of troopers, “and which security level should be granted to that person, please?”  


“Snoke's sending us his star disciple, apparently,” Phasma told him, a hint of sarcasm in her voice. “One Kylo Ren. Never heard about him before.”  


She was definitely smirking behind her mask, he thought.  


“Anything interesting about the guy?” TN-4867, aka Lieutenant Tena, wondered.  


The man served as an aide-de-camp for Phasma and often followed her around during her shifts.  


“He's Force-sensitive and leads the Knights of Ren, but apart from that...”  


Hux barely kept from groaning in dismay. A Force-user on board was an additional risk for his operation, the worst kind of trouble he could have expected. Phasma did not look pleased either, but he suspected it had more to do with the fact Ren would disturb the training schedule for her troops. He did not know her opinion on Force-users, if she had one.

* *

On the other side, things were not exactly looking up either. Poe had not talked about it to anyone in the Resistance, but he had discreetly checked on slaves markets to make sure Armitage was not there either, as his uncommon hair color could make him a target for slavers. Maz had helped him in that task, of course, still remembering her young neighbor fondly. So far, her own network had come back empty-handed. Jyn Erso swore she had not seen or heard of him for months, and had no idea where he could be. Poe had the impression she was giving him quite the cold shoulder as she talked to him, and wondered what Armitage had told her about their breakup. Nothing that he did not deserve, probably.  


In short, he came back from his leave empty-handed and more depressed then before, and with the threat of the First Order growing every day, the future was looking rather bleak.

* *

Kylo Ren, master of the eponymous Knights, had arrived on the _Finalizer_ with relatively little ceremony, and spent most of his first three weeks on board in his quarters. Hux wisely decided not to turn on the cameras and microphones he had hidden in there immediately. If Ren spotted them, it would be much harder to set new bugs afterward.  


Incident Number One (or Mark Zero, as it would be called later) occurred six weeks after Ren set foot on the ship. The crew got the news while most of them were in the mess hall, eating with remarkably little enthusiasm. Hux exchanged a glance with his colleagues over their meals. Eighteen troopers killed to capture one spy? Ren's methods were costly. If he kept this rate, they would have to turn to a clone army sooner than the high command wanted to consider.  


Incident Number Two happened almost immediately after the first, Kylo Ren taking his anger at being reprimanded by General Kaplan onto a console that was promptly turned into smoking bits of charred plastic. Hux found one of the ship technicians working on it, a guy almost as large as Ren himself, with thick blond hair and a pair of glasses constantly perched on his long nose.  


“May I give you a hand?” he asked as the technician tried to fit his body under the console support to plug some cables.  


“You're an engineer,” the burly man morosely said when he emerged. “You surely have something more important to do.”  


Hux shrugged.  


“I'm supposed to repair things as well, so why not help you? It will be done sooner this way.”  


The technician scratched his blond curls, his frown lessening.  


“Thanks.”  


They exchanged a small smile and started working.  


Hux’s good mood did not last long, however. The constant watch he was keeping over General Kaplan and his staff led him to learn about huge shipments of kyber crystals being brought to an anonymous, uninhabited planet in the Unknown Regions. That piqued his interest, as he knew from his parents about the use of such a large quantity of kyber. For the first time since his arrival, he activated the bugs he had planted in the high command conference room and spent his free time listening to the recordings. Once he was done, he wanted nothing more than to bang his head repeatedly against the wall. He had thought those were an improved, smarter version of the Empire, and they were building yet another Death Star. Though he had never met the man in person, he sent a sympathetic thought to his grandfather Galen. And unlike some Sith-wannabee, Hux would finish what had been started. He sent several messages with a low level of encryption. The higher-ups on the _Finalizer_ knew he had kept contacts in the Republic and had even praised him for this welcome source of intel. His message to his mother was the shortest: _'Building something that will make Grandfather roll in his grave. Sorry.'_  


Another shock came when Hux finally managed to get a glimpse of the enigmatic Kylo Ren through one of the cameras installed in the man's room. First, Hux noticed the presence of a shrine holding the twisted remains of some kind of helmet. Ren was sitting in front of it, apparently in deep conversation with the helmet in question. If only he could turn his head slightly on the right... When he did, Hux promptly switched the terminal off, cursing softly. He would have known this face anywhere, even after all this time. The nose and ears were unmistakable.  


_Sometimes I think that Skywalkers are just as useful to the galaxy as nipples on a stormtrooper's breastplate..._ How could the brat have even considered turning to Snoke, of all people? And why? He had absolutely everything: parents who loved and cared for him, though often busy, two uncles who doted on him, a comfortable and safe life, all the opportunities and choices one could imagine... and somehow it had not been enough.  


Worst of all, he knew Hux. Perhaps he would not be able to determine why the engineer was truly there but the past animosity between them could prompt him to make himself a nuisance for Hux. Not thinking about Poe would be an obligation as long as the Force-user was on board. Easier said than done... he missed his pilot every single day. 

* *

Six months passed this way, Hux sending intel to Jyn under the guise of gathering information from the Republic through his contacts. She gave him some tiny pieces of potentially interesting stuff to keep his cover, and General Kaplan himself praised his good work. So far, he had managed to avoid their resident Knight, which was just fine for him.  


The engineers and technicians of the _Finalizer_ were officially not at war with Kylo Ren, the same way the First Order was officially not at war with the Republic. Nothing ever reached Snoke's ears about it, just like nothing reached the senators' ears about what happened in the Rim between the Resistance and the Order fleet. The cleaning droids had been reprogrammed to never set a wheel in his quarters and Hux knew the cooks regularly spat in his food, at least when it was delivered by droid to his rooms. His own team of engineers would tamper with the light and temperature settings each time he broke something on board (at least once a week) or lashed out at an innocent bystander. Needless to say, the brooding darksider had never enjoyed a warm shower after his first two weeks on the ship.  


“That will help him reach his dark powers more easily,” one technician had snickered. “Because the gods know he needs some motivation. Murdering Jedi kids in their sleep doesn't make you efficient and reliable.”  


Hux should have reported them, of course, but since he participated in those activities as retaliation for all the extra hours he had to do because of Ren, he always 'forgot' to do so. Perhaps it was petty but as long as Ren misused his powers, they would strive to make his life as miserable as he made theirs. As well, since he knew who exactly was the spoiled brat hiding behind the mask, he took twice as much fun in reminding him Ren he was a part of the crew as anyone else in the service.  


The number of techs on board created safety. As long as none of them was left alone with Ren, he could not single out their thoughts in the cacophony that the _Finalizer_ probably was for a Force-user. They used this opportunity shamelessly, some of them even establishing a price scale for every kind of supplies Master Ren had broken or would break soon.  


Even if he had been raised in the First Order, Hux thought, he would have hated that little piece of shit. _Good for nothing jerkass, Sith-wannabe without an ounce of Vader’s charisma, all right._  


One of the very few highlights of his position was his relation with Captain Phasma who, once she was off duty, had revealed to be more than tolerable, with a relatively proper sense of humor and plenty of good tips. Phasma could be considered a friend... with some added benefits for both of them. One, acting social towards the crew and their officers would help his cover, and two, it was the first time one of Hux's partners could lift him over their head and throw him over their shoulder for laughs, and he certainly liked the novelty. At least it kept the loneliness at bay. Each time he went back from her room, though, he planted himself in front of a mirror and slapped his own face as hard as he could. _So that you don’t forget who you are and why you are here_ , Cassian’s voice would echo in his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Psst... comments and opinions are always welcome ;)


	5. Suffer the Children

General Kaplan was not as meticulous as he should with his access codes. Had he served under Lord Vader, he would have already gotten his neck twisted for being so sloppy. It was relatively easy to sneak into his quarters, officially for repairs, and make a copy of the datachips his rank cylinders contained. Hux waited two weeks after the theft before beginning to use them, first for random, small searches in the database in order to check the validity of his codes, always during the General's working shifts, and always from a terminal located in the same section as Kaplan. As nothing happened, he began sorting through higher-clearance data, looking for a hint about the gestation tanks and what Snoke might have done with them. He unearthed some allusions to Project Harvester, though that trail seemed too cold to give results. 

He found something else, however, in the form of orders sent by the Supreme Leader to his General. Snoke had required the First Order to send him their most efficient medics and geneticists, and commanded every medical center to give his scientists unlimited access to their databases of genetic samples. Hux fumed, reading this. Those samples were for medical purposes first and foremost, to allow organ donations and grafts since the First Ordre could not access the high-quality prosthesis in the Core, not for some mad medic to toy with! 

A feeling of dread began to grow in him when he noticed the references for the samples being reported in another file, where they were mixed to generate a new code. A new being. Snoke was creating a new breed of living beings, according to his own specifications. The first batch had been grown some twenty years prior, only one of the children surviving the artificial pregnancy to leave their tank. A girl, the file indicated. The poor kid would be about thirteen now, if she still lived. Hux pushed his sympathy for the girl aside, nonetheless. He had to know if Snoke had other unregistered Force-users on his payroll. 

It took him several weeks and many discreet trips to the officers’ section. In the meantime, he discovered a lot of little secrets that could have earned him a fortune in blackmail, had he been inclined to use them. However, harassing a technician and a trooper for a little affair, or revealing an illegal betting pool, would have been really low, even for a spy. And he would not take those people what little joy they could get. 

He finally uncovered what he wanted to know, and a grim smile stretched his lips. He had found where exactly the gestation tanks had gone. He could not even say he was surprised, given both the Commandant and Snoke's fascination with the Force and how to mold it to their wishes. The so-called Supreme Leader would have never wasted such an opportunity to get his own personal army of dutiful slaves, modeled after his preferences, so he had directed all the relevant supplies to different laboratories hidden not on isolated worlds but in populated areas, so that their energy consumption would remain relatively hidden. They were probably producing children even as Hux was hacking into the files. 

Regarding the first batch, he learned that the plan had been to drop several of those subjects onto hostile worlds at a young age, without interference except regular checks to see how they fared. Hux wondered how they could think a child, even a Force-sensitive one, would survive on planets like Tatooine or Jakku. The only girl to survive had suddenly vanished at the same time Commandant Hux had died. Sloane might have stolen her before she ran to another sector of the Unknown Regions. That would be her style, picking Snoke’s future weapon and turning it against him. That had not prevented Snoke from carrying on with his quest for the perfect soldier. His attempts, however, had been severely hampered about five years prior. 

Someone had attacked the laboratory and stolen the ‘specimen’ and the data before torching the place. The same operation had been repeated for the other three facilities Snoke had funded. Now _that_ was a mystery. Who could have sabotaged Snoke's researches? Certainly not the Resistance; at that time no one save perhaps Organa had an idea that the creature even existed and the militia did not even exist. Another Imperial faction trying to undermine the First Order? More likely. Gallius Rax was dead, thank the Force; Thrawn, perhaps, if he had not gone back to his icy homeworld. Sloane was once again the most obvious answer. She had never been a fan of Brendol nor his work, from what Hux could remember of her and what he had read in the Republic archives. It would make sense for her to destroy as much of it as possible, or to scavenge the resources for herself. _The resources..._ They could have Empire-controlled Force-sensitives prowling in the galaxy right now. The Resistance had to know, and the sooner the better. Skywalker would probably be interested by Hux's last finds. 

He used his first shore leave in more than a year to call his mother, and through her line, General Organa. She would warn her brother, allowing him to interfere with the process. The reply he received was not what he had expected. 

“What do you mean, you don't know where he is? He's your brother, for kriff's sake!” 

“He vanished after the destruction of his school,” Leia admitted, “and never told me where he was going. He left a trail of clues, but we only have a few of them. Our map to find him is incomplete.” 

Hux pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“So that's why you are wasting your pilots' time, sending them all across the galaxy for some hints, rather than giving them useful missions and leaving me with all the hard work, while the intel I provide you goes to rot. Thank you so much. One man cannot win this war for you. His return can boost the morale, for sure, but stop expecting miracles.” 

“Jyn is telling you far too much,” Organa sighed. “If you’re caught...” 

“I won’t.” 

“Don’t get too cocky, that never ends well according to my experience,” she warned him. 

“Getting cocky is Poe’s job, and while we’re at it… Let me get this very straight,” he hissed. “If Poe dies because of this quest of yours, there will be no crevice, no planet, no deserted moon remote enough to hide you.” 

He cut the communication before she could reply. Why couldn't they all focus on the important things, Maker above? There was a new Death Star in the making and they all talked about mystical powers! 

* * 

Organa was not the only one looking for Skywalker. Snoke regularly sent his Knights to find his tracks, or some clue to where he could dwell, but the men often came back empty-handed. The old man's ability to avoid detection would have amused Hux to no end if it had not meant more work for him and his team, as Kylo Ren lashed out on their equipment each time one of those missions failed to bear results. 

Once, Hux had to act as the messenger and tell Ren his personal shuttle had been too damaged in a fight to leave again on the following day. Needless to say, the First Knight was not pleased. And worse, he recognized Hux from their time in the Republic. 

“So you crawled back to where you came from, like the ill-born thing you are...” he sneered from behind his mask. “I cannot say I am surprised. Now what were you saying about that shuttle?” 

Hux sighed. 

“One of the shield generators must be replaced, and the engine will have to be completely checked-up, sir. This will take at least two whole days.” 

He hit the wall with a dull thump and then was dropped on the floor, his wrists twisting painfully as he tried to cushion his fall. 

“I don't like your attitude,” Ren growled as he towered above Hux. “This shuttle _will_ be ready by tomorrow morning, or you will suffer the consequences.” 

One last flick of his hand and Hux was thrown against the bulkhead _again_ , hard enough to make his vision go dark for a moment. Ren had already vanished when he reopened his eyes and instead he saw two troopers rushing to help him up. 

“Are you all right, sir, or do you need to go to the medbay?” one of them asked. 

“No, it should be fine, but thank you.” 

They escorted him back to the workshop nonetheless. 

* * 

About a year and a half after being recruited, Hux was summoned to General Kaplan’s office. 

“You wanted to see me, sir?” 

“Indeed. Take a seat.” 

Hux obeyed, wondering where this would lead him. 

“You have been doing an excellent job so far, and it has attracted the attention of some of our project managers,” Kaplan said. “They would like you to join one of their teams. You would leave the _Finalizer_ for several months.” 

“What would this project entail, exactly, sir?” 

Kaplan slightly leaned forward, his expression turning serious. 

“First you will have to swear, as a member of the First Order, that you will not reveal a hint of your new mission to anyone out of this office." 

“You have my word, sir.” _It's absolutely worthless, but you have it nonetheless._

“Excellent.” 

Kaplan rose from behind the desk to fetch a holoprojector. Switched on, the device produced the image of a small planet, where the equator had been carved and turned into a gigantic trench, a glowing mouth opened in the middle. Hux blinked several times, scarcely believing what he saw. 

_Time to live up to the family's reputation…_

“This is Starkiller.” 

_Well, with a name like this, you sure won’t sell it as a holidays resort…_

“It surpasses the Death Stars of old, as it is able to destroy several planets in one shot. A whole system, if need be.” 

Hux forced himself to nod and look impressed. They truly thought themselves clever, repeating the mistakes of their predecessors? Starkiller had a weak point somewhere, and the money used for this project was lost for more starships and fighters. How many computers had they installed on that thing? He could hack his way through them, far from Kylo Ren and his interference. 

“I see that you are, indeed, interested.” 

“You have no idea...” Hux whispered, which Kaplan mistook for reverence. 

“Indeed… You will make a fine addition to Starkiller, I think. Consider your transfer validated. You can start packing, Mr Hux. You are a pride for the Order.” 

_I will be a plague for the Order. That’s what we do, General._

* * 

Long ago, Jyn and Cassian had told him of the rebel base hidden on the ice planet Hoth. Hux thought that Starkiller held a lot in common with that place. It was bitterly cold most of the time, snow was at best ankle-deep and the fortress carved into a mountain did not much to keep its staff warm in spite of the efficient heating units installed everywhere and the thick blankets provided for the dormitories. Here at least, Hux could enjoy some privacy and his own room, no matter how small it was. Another bonus was the absence of Kylo Ren. The man had not interacted with him again after their altercation so Hux assumed his secrets were safe, for now. 

He was tasked with debugging the firing system, along with several other technicians, so that the calculator would interpret the coordinates it was given properly. The rest of the team was much younger, and less experienced than Hux, which gave him a rather devilish idea. 

Over the years, the First Order had turned from an itinerant fleet to a state of its own and some of the highest ranking officers, sometimes Snoke himself, remained dirtside rather than on a ship. If he could get his hands on the location of the Supreme Leader’s lair… 

As he worked, he managed to gather some intelligence about First Order’s spies in the Republic. As far as he knew, they had not infiltrated the Resistance yet, but they still reported a lot of rumors regarding some of its most prominent members. Organa, of course, took the nexxu’s share of those news, but Hux also heard of one Poe Dameron through that grapevine. He tried not to think too much about what he heard: that Dameron was the most daring pilot in Organa’s militia (in other words, the one who took the most dangerous missions), or that he would bed any compatible and willing sentient. 

_I have no right to be jealous. It’s not as if I were a model of fidelity myself. I’m fucking Phasma or Matt regularly enough as it is..._

So he buried his feelings on this matter as well, and went back to work. 

* * 

A whole year had passed before Hux was sent back to the _Finalizer_ , his work on Starkiller done and praised. No one, he hoped, would ever bother to look closely at the little loop he had added to one of the programs, that would reset any coordinates to the ones of Snoke’s current residence, and he kept his fingers crossed so that the ancient being would not move to another world. But Snoke, it seemed, was a creature of habit. Because of his age, probably. When you’re certainly over two centuries – if Snoke himself was to be believed – it is hard to break out of some routines. 

Hux did not mention the loop in his messages to his mother. He was just keeping with Grandfather’s good work. 

Though Starkiller and the troops’ movements occupied most of his spying time, he did not forget the laboratories Snoke had set for the creation of his army of Force-users. The last innovation in the system was to take samples from prisoners with... interesting characteristics, either physical or intellectual. That was doubly insulting to all the poor beings that he had seen dragged to the interrogation rooms. Each time he heard one of them screaming until their voice broke, each time he saw a battered, lifeless body thrown to the garbage, he wished he could smuggle at least one of them out, but the mission went first. Cassian had done his best to teach him that. Nonetheless, it might had happened, from time to time, that some prisoners’ files were altered to show that their interrogation had already occurred, given nothing, and that the unfortunate soul could be released. 

Hux did his best to avoid Kylo Ren, who seemed to grow more vicious and unhinged with each failed mission to retrieve information about Skywalker’s whereabouts, each trail grown cold. His absence from the destroyer had also contributed to isolate him from the rest of the technical team and his only regular company was now one of the ship’s mousers, a little feline as orange-haired as he was, that moved onto his bunk and refused to be relocated anywhere else. 

* * 

The intelligence he sent to the Resistance bore some fruits along the years. A sabotage here, a refused contract there, people attacking the troopers trying to forcefully ‘recruit’ children as the orphanages could not provide enough of them. Through the Order’s rumors mill, Hux still received some news about Poe, who was slowly but steadily turning into the TIE pilots’ bogeyman. He would love that kind of ‘attention’, Hux thought, though it also increased the risks of being shot on sight and the reward the high command promised to any solider lucky enough to kill him. Poe must have gotten the message from Organa somehow, because after a while he became much more cautious during the raids he led, much to Hux’s relief. 

* * 

He had been stationed with the Order for more than seven years when things took an unexpected and quite unwelcome turn. 

As per Ren's orders, the _Finalizer_ was heading towards Jakku. Hux wondered what the Knight expected to find on that crapsack world. Gallius Rax's experiments had been turned to dust a long time ago, after all, and only the rusting carcasses of old starships remained there.


	6. Sticks and Stones…

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> … can break my bones, and words will break my heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I'll be quite busy with preparing Christmas, I'm posting the next chapter this evening.  
> Happy holidays to you all and plenty of good things for the year to come :)

The village of Tuanul was burning. From behind a small dune, a pair of binoculars observed the slaughter and watched as the Knight of Ren cut down a man before ordering his troopers to execute the inhabitants and drag a prisoner back to his shuttle. The owner of said binoculars let out a disappointed sigh. She had tried to persuade the old man, Tekka, to give her the map, but the old fool wouldn't budge. Only someone sent by Organa would get it. Well, Kylo Ren certainly came from Organa, if you wanted to look at it this way, but the old man had paid dearly for his stubbornness. Ren's prisoner would not fare much better. 

The woman waited until all the soldiers had left to venture into the smoking ruins. Ren was truly an idiot, she thought as she considered the villagers' corpses. None of them had the means to contact the Resistance, save perhaps Lor San Tekka. Killing them was just mindless slaughter. _And now she had lost her only way to find that bloody map!_ Her gaze fell on a trail in the sand: the tracks left by a small droid rolling towards the desert. 

_Or perhaps not..._

* * 

Once again, Hux was summoned to Kaplan’s office. The General did not look particularly pleased even though his men had just caught an agent of the Resistance. 

“According to your file, you knew a Poe Dameron during your time in the Republic, didn’t you?” 

“Yes sir,” Hux replied, wondering where this was going. 

“Would you say you had a relationship?” 

“Not really, sir. We… hopped into bed together for some months, but that’s the extent of it.” 

Each word felt like a treason in itself. 

“Well, that’s still more than anyone else on board. Ren brought this Dameron back from Jakku and we have him in custody. So far, he resisted our interrogators and Ren is already cackling about our lack of results. Perhaps a little drop of honey will loosen his tongue.” 

“I can try, General, but I cannot promise anything.” 

“Do it anyway. There’s no additional cost to it.” 

_Except for my soul. I wonder how much I’ll have to scrap to repay for it. Or if it can even be bought back._

“Yes sir. I’ll go immediately.” 

He felt as if Kaplan had just poured acid down his throat. His stomach was in knots and burned painfully, so much that before going to the interrogation room he made a stop at the nearest refresher and locked himself in a stall, throwing up until he spat nothing but bile. Staggering to a sink, he washed his mouth, straightened his uniform and walked to the cells. 

A trooper was standing beside the door, seemingly more bored than alert. He barely nodded before opening the door when Hux announced that General Kaplan had sent him. Quickly stepping inside, Hux heard the door swish closed behind him as if through a fog. 

He wished the scene before him could vanish when he blinked, as he looked at the unconscious form of Poe Dameron, slumped on the chair, a thin line of blood trickling from his forehead to his cheek. Hux wanted nothing more than take Poe out of this room, nurse him back to health and make sure he would never set foot on a First Order ship again. Just a fancy dream that the cameras in the room made totally impossible to fulfill. Hux spotted a medikit on a small table near the chair. It was not a kindness; the kit was only used to ensure the prisoner would not bleed to death during an interrogation. Hux poured some disinfectant on a cotton pad and began to clean the cut on Poe's head, dreading the moment the other man would wake. Soon enough, Poe flinched under the sting of the product and slowly opened his eyes. Hux took a deep breath and braced himself. 

* * 

Someone was delicately pushing his damp hair out of his face and he recognized the smell of bacta. Poe blinked slowly, his eyes adjusting to the harsh light of the halogens in the small room. He saw the grey walls first, then a pale hand near his right eye. His gaze followed the hand in question, then the arm, until he could catch a glance of the person taking care of him. 

Poe had not seen this face for more than seven years but he still knew it as well as his own. He had just hoped he would not find it there. Or his head wound was causing him to hallucinate the presence of his lover. It took him some more seconds to realize that it was indeed Armitage who was cleaning his wound. He recoiled, as far as the device would allow him to. 

“Don't touch me!” he hissed. 

He would have spat in the other's face, had his throat not been so parched. 

But Hux went on treating his wound, apparently unfazed. Once he was done with it, he began cleaning the dried blood that had dripped over Poe's brow and cheek, without a word. 

“I told you to leave me alone!” Poe barked. 

“You're injured. You need help,” Hux replied, his face as blank as a droid's. 

“If you want to help, how about untying me and getting me out of this ship?” 

He heard the other man sigh. 

“And have Kylo Ren behead half my team in retaliation? I think not. You did that to yourself, you know, running after a useless ghost.” 

If his hands had been free, Poe would have gladly slapped him. To think he had wanted to spend his life with this bloodless bastard... 

“I suggest you give them something, even insignificant, before they begin asking for real about your base. Kylo Ren is already waiting for a session with you. He's not known for his gentleness with prisoners.” 

Perhaps it was just wishful thinking, but it seemed to Poe that Hux sounded somewhat worried. 

“I will not be cowed by the likes of him,” he growled. “And I will not betray the Resistance.” 

Hux sighed. 

“Then you will die, slowly, in pain, and far from your friends. I wish I could have spared you that. Goodbye, flyboy.” 

He quickly kissed Poe's forehead then left the room without another word. The pilot tried to turn his head, as much as the chair would allow it, but the door snapped shut before he could catch another glance of the engineer. He leaned back against the cold metal of the chair and closed his eyes, tears slowly rolling down his cheeks. Finding Armitage on the enemy side was the last straw, after everything he had endured in the last seven years and the world of pain he had been submitted to for the past hours. 

* * 

After leaving the room, Hux walked stiffly to Kaplan's office, his nails raking the palms of his hands as he tried to hide their shaking. This was nothing to him, he kept repeating as a mantra. It was just a part of his job, nothing more. _And let's not cross path with Ren or Phasma right now, else I'm deep in trouble._

“So, did you get anything?” Kaplan asked as soon as he set foot in the room. 

“Except for curses and several threats regarding my virility, nothing useful, I’m afraid,” Hux replied in a neutral voice. “He was… most displeased to find me here, in fact.” 

The General sighed. 

“Well, at least we tried. Send Kylo Ren. Let’s see if he has more luck.” 

Once the Knight had entered the interrogation room and locked the door behind him, Hux dared walk back and listen. Soon enough, Poe’s screams began to filter through the door, each one more desperate than the last, and he ran to the safety of the engines room, the pilot’s cries of pain still ringing in his ears. 

Much later Phasma would tell him that the pilot had tried to crack his skull open on the metal of the chair, and nearly succeeded. At that moment he wanted nothing more than push her into the nearest airlock. 

* * 

The little fucker was faster than she had imagined. Half a day running after it, and still no droid in sight. 

After another hour of tracking, the trail the little bastard had left was abruptly interrupted by huge tracks left by a heavy animal and smaller footprints. So... the droid had been stolen by a scavenger, it seemed. She was not supposed to call her ship before she had found the map, but the temperature was rising and she had not intention of spending more time walking in the sand. The First Order could spot her transport, though... Too much time wasted! She opened her comlink and dialed the code to reactivate her ship. Soon the familiar hum of the engines echoed over the dunes. 

* * 

An alarm was sounding across the Finalizer. A prisoner had escaped. Hux soon learned that a wayward stormtrooper had broken Poe out of the interrogation room and stolen a TIE-fighter with him. He smirked as he considered that even in such dire circumstances, Poe would enjoy testing the ship. Very soon, Hux’s mild amusement vanished. 

He was feeling curiously light-headed as he watched the fighter plummet towards the surface of Jakku, as if floating in the middle of nothing. He should have run with Poe instead of letting the trooper do the job, a vicious voice whispered in his mind; this way at least he would not be alone in the world again. _Then again, dying with your loved one is a very romantic notion and you've never been one for that, eh?_

* * 

Back on Jakku, the woman had finally reached Niima outpost. She left her ship behind a dune with the security system on. Anyone trying to get on board without her identification chip would be blasted into pieces. 

Walking among the stalls and dirty workshops with her weapons in evidence, she spotted a droid which size and shape matched with her quarry, apparently in the middle of an argument with a man wearing an old leather jacket over the black bodyglove of the stormtroopers. Interesting. 

“I'm sorry about your friend,” the man was saying. “The fighter got sucked into quicksands before I could do anything. Perhaps he was ejected further. But hey, we really need to leave this place before anything else. The First Order will still be looking for you... and me. So we must get a ship.” 

_How many credits do you have for that, stormy boy?_

She smirked and walked towards the man briskly. The droid saw her first and beeped a question while the potential deserter took a step back. She put the kindest smile she could manage on her face. 

“Heard you needed a lift from this place. I have a ship, but no copilot because the idiot got himself shangaied two days ago. What about a deal?” 

“I'm not exactly an expert pilot,” the man admitted, fidgeting, “but the little guy here could probably do something about it.” 

She made herself nod reassuringly. 

“I won't charge as long as you make yourself useful.” 

He seemed to sag in relief. 

“That... that I can do.” 

* * 

The troopers had found some vague remains of the TIE-fighter, the rest having been swallowed, quite literally, by the desert, and the droid had been seen in Niima outpost (a very generous definition for such a hovel, Hux thought, and the local mafia that ruled it). But they had yet to catch it. The little astromech had received unexpected help. 

Someone had sent another spy on Jakku, about at the same moment as Dameron, in order to retrieve the map, he understood, and that spy had managed to get the droid before the First Order and Kylo Ren, while the First Knight was busy using his grandfather's mask as a therapy device. Or this person, whoever it was, had been lying in wait and used Poe's arrival to disguise their own actions. 

_At least the mission might still turn into a success._

He had nothing else, anyway. 

* * 

_Four days later, on D’Qar..._

The Resistance had nearly given up any hope to see Poe Dameron ever again, and General Organa was wondering how she was going to announce his son’s death to poor Kes. So they were all extremely surprised to see a little transport land about three klicks off their base after sending them the Commander’s codes. A squad was dispatched to fetch the pilot and found an exhausted, battered Poe standing at the foot of the ramp, barely standing. They carried him back to the base, and then straight to the medbay, despite the pilot’s protests that he had to present his report asap. 

Kalonia almost had to yell at him so he would accept the - very mild - sedative he needed. As he slowly drifted into a light sleep, the medic let out a sigh of relief. 

“He should wake again within four or five hours,” she told the General, “but the gods know he needs them.” 

Organa sighed and resigned herself to waiting. 

“At least, will he be all right?” 

“Physically, he’ll recover quickly. No lasting damage. Mentally, however, I can’t be so sure. I don’t know what happened back there… save for the obvious.” 

The obvious in question being torture, dehydration, headaches and the beginning of a panic attack. 

* * 

Poe woke up six hours later, still dizzy but feeling better nonetheless. He spotted General Organa sitting by his bedside, a worried look on her face. 

“General! I’m sorry -” he began, only to be cut off by Organa’s raised hand. 

“Take your time, Dameron.” 

“There’s no time! Lor San Tekka gave me the map, but the First Order attacked the village before I could get a look at it and I had to hide it in BB-8. He’s still on Jakku! We have to get him back before they find him!” 

“Don’t worry. We will send people to retrieve your droid, but you will have to stay here, or Kalonia will ground you for the rest of the season. And furthermore -” 

She stopped when she saw the tears pooling in his eyes and the lost expression on his face. Through the Force, he radiated loneliness and grief. 

“Tell me,” she asked in a softer voice. 

He cleared his throat several times, trying to find the words. 

“He was there...” he muttered after a moment. 

“Who was there, Poe?” 

“Tage,” he finally let out. “Tage was on the _Finalizer_. He's one of their engineers now.” 

Leia just nodded, not trusting her voice. What could she tell him? They needed to keep the game going on for a bit longer, and should Poe learn that his lover, the man he wanted to make his husband, was a spy and in danger, he would do something rash. Dameron was an excellent commander, but when feelings were involved, he tended to act somewhat reckless. In order to protect Armitage's position, she had to keep Poe in the dark, though it pained her to do so, watching the pilot as he sobbed quietly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> According to the visual dictionary, I managed to get at least one thing right in my fics: Hux does carry a knife in his sleeve :)


	7. the Foraker loop

_Somewhere in the Jakku system…_

The former stormtrooper was named Finn. Apparently, he had been called as such by the Resistance pilot he had helped escape. When he asked for her name, she curtly replied “Reyna” and he did not insist, probably thinking she needed to focus on the commands of her ship. As if… 

Going straight home would be a disastrous idea, as the First Order could very well follow her there. She had to find a place to lay low for a day or two. 

“Hey,” she said, turning towards the droid. “Do you know a neutral place where we could wait for your team?” 

BB-8 beeped affirmatively and promptly offered coordinates. She patted its domed head. 

“Thank you.” 

Good thing that droids could not detect lies… With a smile, she calculated the jump to Takodana. Spies of all allegiances mingled there, the best to remain discreet, and she could get rid of her unwanted passenger there as well. Maz Kanata always hosted captains looking for a crew and this Mr Finn would be able to find a ship that would take him far from the First Order. 

* * 

On the _Finalizer_ , the mood had turned quite gloomy after their departure from Jakku, even though Starkiller Base was now ready to fire. Kylo Ren was furious to have lost the map, and the news about a spy helping the droid and a deserter to flee had led to another succession of destructive tantrums. 

Poor Lieutenant Mitaka had barely escaped a lethal strangulation this time, just for bringing some bad news. The small, shy officer did not deserve that, not when he did everything to perfection in spite of his reluctance to step forward. Hux personally set the refresher in the Knight's rooms at icy-cold level, and unleashed several of the ship mousers in said rooms for good measure. With some luck, they would make a mess of Ren's stupid collection of ashes. Regarding the retribution for Poe's interrogation... that would be Hux's masterpiece. And probably his swan's song as well. He wished he could have given Poe a proper explanation. Too late for that, now. 

For the time being, Hux had to watch Kaplan’s speech on screen in the technicians’ mess hall as Starkiller was prepared for its first strike. As the General spoke, he dug his nails into his palms. What if the loop did not work? What if the weapon fired upon the proper coordinates? Blood was beginning to drip along his fingers by the time Kaplan ordered to destroy the Hosnian System. He watched as the red beam soared through space... in the wrong direction. Instead of heading towards the Republic, it flew into the Unknown Regions, where it connected with a single target. 

_Well, oops._

He heard shocked gasps around him, static over the screen. He left as the crowd began to disperse, people being called to their stations in emergency, others looking completely lost. Hux took three minutes to stop by his bunk, lie on the thin mattress and scream into his pillow, a mix of triumph, sadness and frustration. Then he stood, brushed his uniform and joined his team of analysts who were already at work, trying to understand what could have happened. His fingers left scarlet prints on his keyboard as he began to type. 

* * 

_Takodana, three days later..._

Maz’s castle was a fine mess, Jyn thought as she walked across what had been the main courtyard of the building. The massive statue at the entrance had been turned into rubble by a shot from a TIE-fighter (something Jyn would thank the pilot for, to be honest), while fires were burning here and there, the banners in tatters on the ground and three towers now several floors shorter. As she dug under the debris, looking for any survivor of the fight against the stormtroopers, she discovered a little astromech, one of the newest generation. Its white and orange paint was marred with sooth, and the poor thing had apparently received one nasty electric shock. So far, it was unresponsive but Jyn suspected it was precisely the one the Resistance had been sent to retrieve so she knelt in front of it, put her arms around it and lifted the hapless droid from the ground. 

“Hey, you’re heavier than I thought, pal!” 

A bit further, Captain Han Solo was busy embarking some injured civilians on his ship. Takodana did not have much in terms of hospitals and perhaps a little stay in the Resistance’s medbay on D’Qar would convince them to join the fight. It would not be the first time he ferried potential recruits to his wife – and rekindled their once-on, once-off relationship. He took off with a smile. She could not complain that he had ever come back empty-handed, even though his ‘presents’ were now staff and supplies rather than flowers. 

As he left the atmosphere, he called the leader of Black Squadron. 

“Got everyone back, Commander?” 

“Yes, Captain Solo. We didn’t lose anyone this time, though the other side gave us a good run for our money. Did you find my… the droid?” 

Han shook his head. He had rarely seen such a devotion from a pilot to his astromech, even from Luke towards R2. And _that_ was saying something. 

“Jyn got him, from what I gathered. She put the little guy in one of our transports. Don’t worry, you’ll get him back soon enough.” 

“At least I’ll have this one to keep me company...” 

Dameron’s voice sounded quite melancholic. 

“You sure you're alright?” Han questioned, noticing Poe's unease. 

The pilot gave him a sad smile via the holocom. 

“I'm not. And it's not something you can change, unless you fancy flying to the _Finalizer_ to fetch one of her engineers,” he said, a nervous tick making the corner of his eye twitch. 

Han blinked several times, trying to make sense of what he had just heard. Did Poe just imply..? 

* * 

Kylo Ren had become perhaps even more unstable than usual, between the disappearance of his master and his inability to locate the traitor who had recalibrated Starkiller to eliminate the Supreme Leader. Hux, of course, found this immensely amusing, though he knew his time was growing shorter. Sooner or later, Ren would dig into his mind and found about the mission. If he was lucky, the Knight would be too busy fighting over Snoke’s throne against Kaplan and the other high officers to pay him any attention before some time, but what could he do with this delay, except sabotage some more programs and transmit everything he could gather to the Resistance? 

His despair vanished, however, when he received intel from the battle in Maz’s castle on Takodana. He had to refrain from calling the old pirate to make sure she was alright, and that his mother had not been caught in the crossfire. 

One of the surviving TIE fighters had brought back pictures from the battle, he discovered. Hux logged into the database to watch them and let out a low whistle. First of all, he watched as a girl - young woman rather - moved across the plazza taking down one stormtrooper after the other with a… lightsaber?! That was certainly unexpected, and he understood better why Ren had called for his knights some mere hours ago. He wanted this new player to be brought to him and see if he could turn her into another servant. _Excellent training..._ Hux thought as he replayed the sequence. _Knows how to use blind spots and rubble for cover. Very fast and light on her feet. I wonder where she learned to use a lightsaber, however._ He studied her face for a moment but could not find any kind of familiarity in her features. It looked as if she had received special ops training, and not the multipurpose training the Resistance usually gave their staff. It smelled like the old Empire more than anything else. Fast-forwarding the video, Hux watched the aerial dogfight between the Resistance and the TIEs. He recognized the black and orange X-Wing giving the TIEs hell immediately and could not help grinning like a fool. Unless they had already given his fighter to another pilot, Poe was very much alive. No one else could fly like this and shoot down enemies as if they were mosquitoes on a window. Suddenly his backup plan for emergencies did not look so far-fetched anymore. He wanted to live. 

* * 

They should have known better than to get their hopes so high. BB-8 being electrocuted should have clued them about the map missing. Poe was aghast. 

“Don't worry, we'll be able to restart your droid,” a technician assured. “It was just deactivated, not burnt.” 

“Yeah, but still...” Poe muttered, crouching to pat BB-8's dome. 

As if BB’s health, no matter how worrying, was the biggest issue there… Everything Poe had done had been for nothing. Every single blow he had taken, every jolt of electricity through his muscles, every shot of mind-weakening drugs in his system, every memory Ren had desecrated… Poe felt... he did not know how to describe how he felt. In pain. Hollow. Alone. Like a complete failure. _You had one job, Dameron, one! And you managed to fuck up!_ He was sorely tempted to walk back to the medbay to steal a whole bottle of pills, or one of Kalonia's scalpels. Not yet... he decided. But after the war, if he still lived, he would have no purpose left, and he would not impose his presence anymore. 

* * 

Ren taking control of the First Order had been faster than Hux had imagined. Well, for a certain definition of 'control' of course. But with Kaplan dead, so far no one had dared contradict the Knight... sorry, the Supreme Leader, and he reigned with his usual mix of petulance and inexperience. The lower ranks were torn between growing panic and business as usual as a way to hide said panic. The likeliness of a disaster seemed higher than ever. 

Hux was copying some more data for the Resistance when Matt called him. 

“Hux? Kylo Ren is looking for you,” his teammate told him. “You're summoned to his quarters.” 

_Well, fuck._ He had hoped he would have more time before the maniac decided to interrogate him. He would have to improvise, as usual. 

“Thank you, Matt. I’ll go immediately.” 

“D’you know what he wants?” 

“No idea,” Hux lied smoothly. 

Matt did not notice his colleague had left with two ration bars and a bottle of water, nor that his last log-off had unleashed yet another virus into the ship’s computers. 

Needless to say, Hux never showed up to his appointment, and the poor trooper who reported to Ren that a life pod was missing got thrown into the nearest wall for his troubles. 

The new Supreme Leader had been a bit too hasty in assuming that the traitor had already left the _Finalizer_ , however. 

* * 

At that time of the night, the hangar was deserted. A screw suddenly fell from its casing, but the sound it made against the metal floor was lost among the rumble of the engines. The other three joined it in quick succession, then the grating they held was slowly pulled to the side, revealing a hole in the bulkhead. A head cautiously peeked from the inside, checking the absence of guards, then vanished, before a bag was thrown onto the floor, followed by a slim, long-legged individual. Brushing dust from his civilian clothes, Armitage Hux cast another look around the hangar then walked briskly towards the nearest shuttle, pausing only to check the serial numbers on its flank to make sure it was the one he had prepared for such an eventuality. No tracking device, full tanks and a well-maintained hyperdrive. He had always known that one day he would run out of luck, and he could not remain hidden in the vents and maintenance shafts of the _Finalizer_ forever. His stomach was grumbling after nearly two days of impromptu fasting and his knees creaked after his stay in such narrow spaces. He had not been able to sleep either, constantly moving from one place to another to follow a group so his mental signature would not be too easy to pinpoint. There were days like these where he would have given an arm for one of Thrawn's Force-repelling lizards. 

Hux slipped into the shuttle with one last glance towards the hangar doors before closing the ramp and taking the pilot seat. He connected his datapad to the console and uploaded the program he had created to unlock the hangar shields and security from the shuttle itself. He briefly felt sorry for the chief technician whose codes he had stolen. 

* * 

The Resistance should have been used to surprises after the way Poe had come back ‘from the dead’, but to be honest, assuming one of your top spies is going to fly home in a stolen shuttle after pulling the biggest stunt of his career would have been somewhat of a stretch. General Organa was nonetheless very pleased when she saw Armitage standing on the ramp of his ship. Not so much when the younger man’s knees began to buckle and he had to clutch at the metal wall to keep himself upright. 

“Help him out of this kite!” Organa ordered. 

They managed to catch him before he fell face first on the duracrete, exhausted after three days without food nor sleep and running for his life. Leia knelt beside her spy, gently pushing a lock of hair hanging on his brow. When he tried to speak, she put a finger on his lips. 

“Shh... Medbay first, and then we'll talk. Right?” 

He nodded weakly as two guards helped him on his feet and carried him to the medbay. Kalonia put him through a whole battery of tests, checking his blood pressure, his temperature, the concentration of various minerals in his blood flow… 

The medic hummed contentedly as she monitored his vitals, frowning then relaxing slightly. 

“Well, you don't look too bad for someone who's been in the devil's mouth for so long. You were lucky.” 

“Most of the time. I did hit a wall, once.” 

The medic rolled her eyes and gently patted his shoulder, then turned to address General Organa, who was waiting by the door. 

“He will live and see another day, don’t worry. You can send him to debrief within five hours. And call his mother while you're at it,” Kalonia added. “She will be glad to know he came back in one piece.” 

Armitage was not the only patient in the medbay. On a nearby bed, he spotted the unconscious form of FN-2187. 

Someone had neatly cut his left forearm right below the elbow, and knocked him out for good measure. 

“The wound was made by a lightsaber,” the medic pointed out, stating the obvious. “Kylo Ren will have one more crime to answer for.” 

“There were two people down there with a lightsaber, according to Captain Solo, so I would not bet on Kylo Ren exclusively,” Armitage countered. “Granted, the girl's weapon was not red, but that's not a guaranty of character.” 

And the former FN-2187 was far too trusting for his own good. His reckless rescue of Poe had proven it, and he had probably assumed that, since he had helped the girl off Jakku she would feel grateful and indebted to him. Armitage rolled his eyes. If the girl was indeed one of Sloane's disciples, her acting as a normal human was quite unlikely. She had used the trooper's good will and assistance and as soon as she did not need him anymore, had done her best to cover her tracks. And worse, she had managed to scamper with the datachip containing the map to Skywalker’s sanctuary. 

The droid had been found in one piece, thankfully, but that was a scant consolation. The high command was aghast. Armitage wondered whether they truly believed that one man could win that war for them, even a legend. 

* * 

Leia Organa visited him later, wishing to ensure he was fit for debriefing. 

“I’m fine. Before we go, can you just tell me if I hallucinated, or Poe is still alive?” 

“He's all right. You missed him by some hours, I'm afraid. After gathering all the intel we could get on Starkiller, we decided to get rid of it as soon as possible. It should take them a full day in hyperspace to reach it, at least.” 

His shoulders slumped a bit more. 

“And now he's off again to get himself killed,” Armitage said in a dead voice, feeling as if someone up there had cursed him from birth. 

“Give him some credit, please,” Leia chided him gently. 

He rolled his eyes but allowed himself a small smile. Organa promptly turned around when he rose from the bed to fetch his clothes. Once he was dressed and his hair slightly less of a mess, he followed her out of the medbay… only to be caught in a vice-strong embrace by a familiar pint-sized Rebel. 

“Hello mum,” he deadpanned, “I’m very happy to see you as well, but could you let me breathe a little, please?” 

Jyn released him, grinning, before kissing him soundly on both cheeks. She was not so demonstrative usually; they had always been very similar on that regard. He returned the embrace, his fingers closing on her braid. All grey now. 

Organa coughed lightly behind them. 

“Two minutes with my son, for kriff’s sake,” Jyn groused. “Is that too much to ask for?” 

“The high command is waiting.” 

“And you can tell them to wait a bit more.” 

“It’s fine,” Armitage said in a placating tone. “I have a lot to tell them, granted.” 

To his relief, Major Ematt was not in the room when he entered, Jyn and Organa on his heels. He spotted Statura, Ackbar, Brance (who gave him a discreet thumb up) and two young women who were introduced as Lieutenant Connix and regulator Pamich Nerro. 

“Please take a seat,” Ackbar told him. “I believe we’re in for a long session.” 

Nerro pushed a glass of water into his hands, which he took with a grateful smile, and then he began to speak, retelling everything he had observed within the Order that he had not been able to fit in his reports. 

“So,” Ackbar mumbled, “you think some of your colleagues could be convinced to turn and join us, or at least to remain neutral?” 

“A few are true fanatics. The others... they're just people trying to put bread on the table every day, and they took the first opportunity to do so. I think it might work, but we would need to offer some protection for the Order.” 

Leia nodded. 

“If Starkiller is destroyed, relocating some of them in the Core or in Rim sectors far from First Order territory could be useful. We always need skilled people, after all. As for the Order’s next move...” 

“Unfortunately, we have lost our only set of eyes and ears in the First Order,” Statura lamented, “and we'll have a hard time sneaking another inside.” 

“Well, as for that,” Armitage said as an afterthought, “I may have left some spywares in the computers I worked with...” 

Brance was openly smiling, while Ackbar emitted a groan. 

“Of course you did… At least _those_ cannot be detected through the Force. On another topic, do you think Kylo Ren will make an efficient leader?” 

“In one word: no. The officers and troops are afraid of him, but they don’t respect him. He has no patience, he doesn’t plan very well… He’s not Vader, that’s for sure.” 

_Don’t expect him to return to the Light either_ was left unsaid. 

“What can you tell us about a soldier who held the FN-2187 designation?” 

“Given the number, I'd say just deployed on the field after several months of intensive training. Directly under Captain Phasma's command. I know Kylo Ren signaled him as 'reticent to shoot' after Jakku, but that's it. He had never gotten any bad mark before that. Quite the opposite. So they were completely taken by surprise when he ran with a prisoner.” 

“Indeed. Do you think this deserter will be loyal to the Resistance?” Statura wondered. 

Armitage shrugged. 

“As long as you can protect him from the First Order, I suppose. I suspect he did not free Dameron from the goodness of his heart, but because he desperately needed a pilot to leave the _Finalizer_. The FN section is infantry, not the TIE fighters. So I would say we trust him, but only as far as we can throw him, and we keep an eye on his activities. It's the standard procedure the Alliance applied, anyway, isn't it?” 

Statura nodded with a grim smile. 

“Certainly. Except that in those times, we had enough staff to do so. Well, we'll try and make do. Go take some rest, now.” 

Armitage bowed sharply and went in search of a bed that would not be in the medbay. He was done with medics, no matter how kind Major Kalonia could be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of the chapter is a nod to the character of Shannon Foraker from the _Honor Harrington_ universe, who pulled a similar stunt against the State police.


	8. We need to talk

A mini-supernova is a thing of beauty, when observed from the safety of a distant planet. Not so much when you push the engines of your starfighter so far past their recommended limits that even your astromech is screeching profanities, but the other option is to be burnt to a crisp by the radiations. Poe was not used to flying without BB-8, and he suspected his droid’s replacement would never want to go up with him again. His little friend had better be repaired when he came back to D’Qar, or he would suffer the same fate as Pava, who could not find a single droid willing to partner with her. Then again, every single one she had used had been either destroyed or damaged during a mission, so... 

A series of beeps told him that his _Black One_ was out of the danger zone and he let himself sag against his seat. In another world, he would think of how he would tell Wedge Antilles that he was now a member of the very select club of pilots who had destroyed a Death Star. In this world however… 

While the surviving pilots hooted in glee and congratulated themselves, Poe remained silent. He would not think of the possibility that Armitage had been stationed on that thing. He would not. Pah! Who was he kidding? This would invade his every waking though and his sleep as well, until he received a clear answer. 

* * 

Poe’s first thought when he reached D’Qar, though, was to make sure Finn still lived. He owed too much to the trooper to forget about him like that. Kalonia offered him a tentative smile. 

“Your Mister Finn will recover,” she told him, trying to sound optimistic. “It won't be easy, nor very fast, but he'll get better.” 

Poe nodded weakly, not bothering to even try and return the smile or the comment. He had lost half his squadron, one of his friends had been grievously injured either by the spy who had stolen the map or by a madman wearing the face of a boy he knew, and he had probably killed his partner. Everything was just fine. 

He was wandering aimlessly in the corridors, trying to find a corner where he could hide and find some moments of peace (perhaps aboard the _Falcon_ , if Captain Solo accepted to host him for a while), when he arrived within earshot of Organa and Major Brance congratulating themselves. 

“We will grant some days of leave to Armitage,” the General was saying. “Force knows he deserve them. And Jyn would never forgive us if we didn’t let her boy come home.” 

“Looks like building _and_ sabotaging a battle station at the same time became a family business,” Brance chuckled. 

“Beg your pardon?” Poe said abruptly. 

The two officers froze and he could have sworn Organa had cursed. 

“Are you saying that he was your spy in the First Order? Has been for all these years?” 

He wanted to punch something. Anything. The wall, preferably, else it would be Brance's face. Or even Organa's. 

“Why the fuck,” he growled, “didn't you tell me about it?” 

The General sighed. 

“Because I know you, Poe. You're dedicated to the cause, and a great leader, but when something or someone dear to you is at risk, you tend to stop thinking rationally.” 

“You send my partner right into the monster’s maw! Ever thought of what could have happened to him? How is he?” 

“He's alive and safe,” Organa told him, her tone suddenly more severe. “No thanks to your antics, but he made it back.” 

“Where is he? Please. I must talk to him before you send him on another mission.” 

She finally took pity on him. 

“Room number 37,” she said. “And be nice.” 

“When am I not?” Poe joked weakly, before turning on his heels and sprinting down the corridor. 

Armitage was packing some civilian clothes in a bag when the pilot entered the room and as soon as he spotted Poe, a frown appeared on his face. 

“What are you doing here?” he asked harshly, bracing himself for another rejection. 

“Why should I not come and see you?” Poe retorted, equally abrasive. 

That was not exactly going the way he had expected. 

“Your words on the _Finalizer_ seemed pretty final, in case you didn’t remember. And I've heard of your reputation,” Hux sneered, trying to hide some of his grief behind it. “Anything that moves, apparently, as long as it's sentient enough to consent.” 

“Did you expect me to live like a monk after you left?” 

“Most certainly not. We did break up, after all,” Hux replied in a quieter voice. 

“I'm so sorry, Tage,” Poe whispered. “If anyone had just told -” 

Hux merely raised an eyebrow. 

“You'll have to do better than this, I hope you know it,” he snapped as he went back to his bag. 

“Yes! Hell, of course I know it! I’m not stupid, Tage. It will cost me an arm or more, but I will do it! Anything you want, you just have to name it! I grew up in seven years. It's just... of course I was relieved to see you alive and well, after all this time… but you wearing this uniform... it hurt more than I had imagined. It felt like the world crashing down around me. Ren didn't help either.” 

The other man turned abruptly towards him. 

“What do you mean?” Armitage demanded. 

“When he... questioned me, he dug into all my memories and of course, yours were close to the surface after your visit, so he... explored all of them, in detail, every moment we had... and then... he showed me, just as graphic, what would happen to us both once he was done with me.” 

“Ah... Small wonder he made a beeline for me when Starkiller... ahem... misfired,” Hux commented, knowing too well how painful those 'explorations' could be. 

Poe nodded absently, then asked in a hollow voice: 

“Did they _question_ you as well, when you joined them?” 

Armitage sighed. No need to lie; Poe knew him well enough to notice if he tried. 

“They did. It's not as if they were going to welcome a Republic citizen with open arms. Thankfully I had some believable stories up my sleeve and Ren was not on duty when I arrived. Neither was my father. Else my time as a spy would have been much shorter.” 

Dameron began to reach for him, as if he wanted to offer some comfort, but seemed to think better of it and took a step back. Armitage shook his head. 

“I won't bite, you know,” he said dejectedly. “Come here.” 

Poe hesitated for a second before closing the distance between them. He gingerly accepted his former partner's embrace, remaining stiff in his arms until he caught a whiff of Hux's cologne, something he had used for so long that the scent remained embedded in the fabric of his clothes. So many memories carried by a few molecules... Of pecks on the cheek every evening when they got back home, of lazy mornings spent in bed, of long walks in the park near their home... 

“I looked for you,” he mumbled into Hux's jacket. “I went to your office, to hospitals, police stations... I thought someone had shot you and you were lying in a ditch somewhere… I even asked Maz to check on slaves markets...” 

The other man said nothing, just gripped his shoulders a bit tighter. Poe remained wrapped into his embrace for a while, unconsciously rocking Armitage against his chest, then he remembered something. 

“Hey, I need to introduce you to someone,” he said with a small smile. “You’ve probably heard about him a lot recently.” 

“You mean your pet droid?” 

“BB is not a pet,” Poe scoffed, falsely indignant. “He got me out of a lot of tricky spots. I’m sure he’s going to like you. He was just released from the workshop and he’s fine.” 

Poe had been entrusted with the little astromech after Armitage's departure so BB-8 was very surprised at first to find this orange-head human with his pilot. Then again, if that specimen had a similar coloring, perhaps he also held the same function for Poe as BB-8 himself? The droid decided to wait and see… and trust Poe, of course. His pilot usually was a good judge of character, and BB-8 had also learned to identify some elements of human body language. What he had just witnessed between Poe and the newcomer meant friendship and care, so he would not interfere. 

“I haven’t had anything for the past fourteen hours or so,” Poe mumbled. “Want to join me for dinner?” 

He even _offered his arm_ to walk Armitage to the mess hall. The redhead rolled his eyes but followed his lead anyway. They were among the first to sit for a meal but the peace did not last long. Soon the rest of Poe’s squadron arrived and silence became a distant memory. 

Jessika Pava stopped before their table with a strange expression on her face. 

“Organa just told us a funny story,” she said. “About our Commander’s ex-boyfriend being a spy and fucking up Starkiller all by himself. She also told us there was one truth and one lie in that story.” 

“He’s not my _ex_ -boyfriend,” Poe replied with an almost predatory smile. “That was the lie.” 

Armitage gasped at that. 

“But he did fuck up Starkiller all by himself,” the pilot concluded, beaming with pride. 

“Wow...” was Snap’s only comment. 

“We must celebrate that,” Karé declared. “Finish that thing you call dinner, and we’ll take care of you. _Both_ of you.” 

Armitage blinked several times. They were... _happy_ to see him? His eyes began to sting. Pava was the first to notice and pulled him into a tight hug. 

“Hey, hey... no need for that. You're home now.” 

“Find your own guy, Jess,” Poe mock-growled behind her. “This one is _mine_.” 

“Gladly,” Armitage muttered, somewhat muffled against Pava's collarbone. 

She gently rubbed his back, barely hiding a sniff, and he began to feel a bit self-conscious again. It got worse when a large hand (or a fin?) probably belonging to Admiral Ackbar began to pat his head. 

“We have a tradition, in a way, for pilots who come back from a mission,” Karé said. “We all pile up in someone’s room with a bottle of… whatever and we just… spend some time together. I think we can include spies coming back from very long missions as well.” 

“I’d be honored.” 

Soon they were all snuggling against each other in L’ulo’s room, insisting for Armitage to join them on the thick carpet the Duro pilot had brought from his homeworld. His legs were now trapped under Poe, the pilot lying close enough to him that Armitage could touch him easily whenever he wished. Jess was leaning against his right side, Karé to the left, Snap holding her while Nien curled up in Jess' lap and L'ulo gently patted his little friend's back. They were warm and safe and then someone passed a bottle of some homemade booze around. 

“Not bad,” Armitage decided. “But does Kalonia know you've been smuggling her alcohol out of the medbay?” 

L'ulo emitted a cackling laugh. 

“You bet she does, man! She even gave us recipes!” 

Nien snorted in amusement while Poe rolled his eyes at his honorary uncle (the Duro had helped Kes raise him, after all). After a while, they were all more than a bit tipsy, Jess laughing at random intervals while L’ulo muttered an old song. Off-tune, of course. 

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Poe said with a tired smile, “thank you very much for this extremely kind welcome, but now, if you don't mind, I'd like some time with my partner.” 

Snap chuckled at that and pushed them both towards the door. 

“Keep it low, will you? There are people here who want to sleep, after such a day.” 

Pava snorted loudly at that. 

“I came back home to apologize,” Poe said quietly as they walked towards his quarters, the droid on their heels. “You were already gone. I thought...” 

“I know. But what happened between us was just... a trigger for the rest. I had already enlisted as a spy for the Resistance. We were just looking for an opportunity, so that you wouldn't run after me.” 

“I would have,” Poe admitted ruefully. “I... missed you. More than I thought possible.” 

He laced his fingers with Armitage's and squeezed slightly. 

“Life was not very funny without you either,” the redhead conceded. “I made some friends on the other side, but it was not the same. Never the same.” 

“I should hope so.” 

Armitage rolled his eyes. Cockiness was so ingrained into Poe Dameron that even reducing the man to subatomic particles would not be able to rid him of it. But he also knew what was hidden underneath. 

“Poe, have you talked to anyone about what happened? And I mean really talked, not just giving the outlines.” 

“Have you?” 

“ _Touché_ ,” Armitage admitted as they reached the door to Poe's room. 

Being a Commander had some perks, a slightly larger bed for instance, and they would both manage to fit on it without Armitage's long legs sticking out. 

“Tell me everything you need,” Armitage murmured, “and I'll do it.” 

“Hold me. Just that, please.” 

He took one of Poe's hands in his, flinching as he saw the dark crescents of dried blood under the nails. 

“I'll live,” Poe muttered, as if embarrassed by the attention he was receiving. 

“You'd better,” Armitage commented. “Is this all right?” he asked then, his fingers hovering over the fastenings of Poe's jacket. 

“Yeah,” Poe breathed. “Make it slow, but yes, please…” 

The jacket slid over his arms and fell, then the buttons of his shirt were undone one by one. Poe began to return the favor, untying Armitage’s belt, pushing his coat off his shoulders… They sat on the bed as the pilot pulled his partner’s sweater over his head. 

Their boots, socks and shirts were discarded onto the floor, followed by their trousers, as Armitage curled around the pilot, gently rubbing his back and shoulders, murmuring sweet nothings as he did. He began playing with Poe's curls, a gesture that had always calmed him in the past. Poe shifted against him to kiss his wrist and nuzzle the soft skin there, his eyes still closed, breathing into the familiar scent, then wrapped his arm around the other man's chest, pulling him closer. 

“You can drop the act now,” Armitage whispered. “There's no one here but me and you don't need to prove anything.” 

Poe whimpered against his shoulder, curling up on himself while his partner kept rubbing his back and murmuring in his ear. He calmed down progressively, his breathing becoming more regular. 

“Thank you." 

“Anytime, Poe. Anytime. Try and get some sleep?” 

Poe mumbled an agreement and nestled more comfortably against Armitage's shoulder. After a while, he shifted again, resting on his back, still holding the other man’s hand. Armitage pulled the sheet and blanket over them, prompting a little groan from Poe, but the pilot was soon asleep, his breathing evening out and his features relaxing at last. That was a sight Armitage had missed sorely. 

He began to doze off , his head pillowed on Poe's chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. That was a form of intimacy he cherished more than anything else; you could have sex with perfect strangers, while drunk or not, but staying with your partner like this, with no barrier between the two of you, completely trusting and at ease with each other... he would never tire of it. However, he would drag Poe to the first decent shrink he could find by the scruff of his neck if necessary; his pilot was far too stubborn for his own good and the help Armitage could provide would only go so far. Poe needed a professional to sort his mental problems out, and soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know what I would like for Ep IX? Kylo hitting Hux on the head one time too many, so he has to dump an amnesic General on some random planet and lies to the FO about Hux deserting, then seeing the Order crash around his ears.  
> Some weeks later, the Resistance pays a visit to Maz, who has just hired a new, red-haired technician to repair her lair, and who's very happy about his job (think Caleb Smith in a SW setting).  
> That would be rather entertaining.


	9. Running

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not quite my best chapter, but stomach flu does nothing for inspiration...

They enjoyed a grand total of four days of relative peace before everything went down to hell again. Poe spent most of them with Armitage, either in their shared quarters or working on his fighter. Much to his relief, BB-8 had quickly warmed up to Armitage and had even elected the engineer as its new 'emergency contact' whenever he needed a repair. After their first session together, the little droid looked almost brand-new and Poe suspected Tage would soon treat BB-8 like his own kid, much as Poe himself did. 

The rest of the pilots had gotten used to their antics, and the constant need to be close to each other. Some people, however, were not as pleased by this development as others. Major Ematt, for a start. Once, Armitage caught sight of the older man standing in the corridor and watching in disgust as Poe kissed his engineer passionately, and he did not miss the opportunity to flip the Major off. 

The former FN-2187, now called Finn, looked as displeased with this development as Ematt, but Armitage could not bring himself to care. The former trooper could fanboy over Pava or any other pilot instead, once he was done with his physical therapy. Or perhaps the young man had a hard time separating Armitage the spy from Hux the chief technician (and, admittedly, a huge jerk). Reality had to give everyone a wake-up call, of course. 

* * 

They would have to evacuate very soon. The bulk of the First Order's fleet, though nowhere near as massive as the Empire's, would reach D'Qar in a week at best and they had more than enough ships to turn the Resistance into ashes. At least, it would not take them a week to scamper to another planet. 

They would go through separate ways, so that at least some of them could escape the First Order. Much to Armitage’s relief, his mother decided to stay with him and Poe. Jyn had observed them for a while and decided to have a little chat with the pilot, without her son’s interference. 

“I know you want revenge, and so do I, but one piece of wisdom from an old woman: your revenge should be to survive. Grow stronger, and live long.” 

He nodded slowly, processing the idea. 

“It's not easy.” 

“Don't you think I know it?” she chided him gently. “I lost my parents, my friends and ultimately, my husband to the Empire. I'm doing everything I can so that my son doesn't follow the same path.” 

“I can help. If you want me to.” 

She smiled and patted his head, as she had done when he was a child. 

“It’s a rhetoric question,” she commented. “Now, let’s get back to work before Statura accuses us of straggling.” 

They both left to attend their respective duties. Poe’s fighter was ready to fly again, as well as the rest of his squadron, though they had to disperse, this time. He felt a bit weird at the thought of going into battle without Snap nor Pava behind him. Not that he did not trust the other pilots provided by the Resistance; he was just not used to them. 

And getting used to the rest of the high command of the Republic, should they join the fight, would take a while as well. Poe would not say out loud that he resented them for not granting more help to the Resistance… but he did nonetheless. Leaving the fleet to join Organa’s militia was probably the most satisfying thing he had done in his whole career. 

The Resistance managed to pack everything up in less than four days and took off from D’Qar. Poe would miss the place; it reminded him a bit of home. BB-8, on the other hand, was quite pleased to leave such a humid planet behind. 

Now they could only hope that the First Order would not send any probe in the vicinity nor that they could track them to their meeting point with a part of the Republic fleet. Poe wondered who in the high command had taken that decision. Someone who would not miss their rank nor their job once they’d been demoted for insubordination, certainly. 

Armitage did not care much for the official military. He was busy making holovideos of all the data he had gathered on Starkiller, along with some pictures taken during the attack and destruction of the station, planning on releasing them on the Net to try and gather more support. Karé helped with her editing skills and BB-8 sometimes participated as well with his own input. Poe was soon dragged into it, as well as Captain Solo, though the older man did not surrender without an eye roll and a very long, suffering sigh. No one really paid attention to it, as they all knew he secretly loved those little gatherings, particularly with the younger generation. Making up for what he had lost, probably. 

* * 

The fleet waiting for them was a group of four MC cruisers, five frigates, two corvettes and their respective battalions of starfighters. Bigger than Poe had expected, but still not enough to take the First Order down. One lone star destroyer, however… that would be manageable. The pilot felt some optimism coming back to him. 

He also realized that his predictions regarding the poor fool who had told the Republic to screw it and come to their help were perfectly right, as soon as he spotted a flash of pink and purple near General Organa. 

Vice Admiral Amilyn Holdo was, at first glance, the complete opposite of a dignified, competent military leader. Her brightly colored clothes and eccentric hairstyle usually had this effect on a superficial audience. Poe suspected she played the part to get her opponents to lower their guard around her and he had to admit, it worked nicely. 

Even her _allies_ were prone to underestimate her at times, a mistake Poe was not likely to repeat after making a fool of himself several years prior. 

“Who is the lady?” Armitage asked him. “I don’t remember meeting her.” 

“Admiral Holdo.” 

“Oh? I had heard she was a bit of an original, but I didn’t imagine it would be this way. Well, if her strategy is as bright as her dress, Kylo Ren’s head will be on a spike before the end of the year.” 

“You could get your wish.” 

“Excellent,” Armitage hissed. “I think I’m going to like this Admiral of yours...” 

Holdo greeted them kindly enough and asked the former spy to stop by her office so she could get some more details about the First Order’s command, before calling every officer to the main meeting room on her ship. Said ship had attracted Poe’s attention the minute he had stepped on it: it was _old_. ‘Rusty’ would be an exaggeration, but the pilot suspected that thing had already been in service at the beginning of the Empire. Holdo might have been an eccentric but she would certainly drag such a relic into a fight with top-class destroyers. So what did she have in mind? 

“Thank you for joining us. Please be welcome, and take a seat,” Holdo greeted the audience. “Here are the latest developments: we have sent several messages on non-secured channels that will allow the First Order to know where we are. This ship will be used as bait, as we make them believe all our high command is stationed aboard so they focus their attention on it rather than the fact it's floating here alone, or that there might be other, smaller vessels in the vicinity. Thus they will believe they have successfully beheaded our organization.” 

“Isn’t that too huge a risk, given the size of our forces?” Poe asked. 

“All the transports are equipped with a cloaking device. Nothing to do with the old stuff that left you blind and deaf,” she assured, seeing Poe's doubtful expression. “It's a lighter and simpler version, but during tests it managed to fool automatic tracking and at high speed pilots also have trouble spotting it. Here, have a look.” 

“Thank you, Admiral.” 

He began to browse the report. 

“I don't know about their detectors... Tage? You have something about it?” 

“Let me see...” 

Holdo looked alternatively at them both as they compared notes and exchanged ideas. Interesting how they worked as two halves of the same mind... 

“From what I know, they didn't have access to the Republic's newest researches on cloaking devices. Nonetheless, let's play it safe and assume they have at least the basics to detect them. The Order itself doesn't use such technology. So far, they have not rebuilt the old Interdictors either.” 

“Good to know. So, Commander Dameron?” 

“It sounds safe enough... at least on paper but even the best laid plans... well, you know about that.” 

Holdo nodded, several people echoing the gesture. 

“Ready to go out and make it look realistic enough?” she asked. 

“If by 'realistic' you mean 'blowing as many TIEs as possible', of course, Ma'am. It will be my pleasure.” 

He did not need to turn to know that Armitage was rolling his eyes so far back that he was probably observing his own brain. 

“That's what I was hoping for,” Holdo admitted with a smirk. “Mister Hux, what can you tell us about their new ahem... Supreme Leader's skills?” 

“On the battlefield, he's very efficient,” Armitage replied, “given he can block blaster shots and move objects or people through the Force. He makes for a rather terrifying sight and he's also an asset for... extracting information from prisoners.” 

He deliberately did not look at Poe as he said it. 

“However, when it comes to administration and relations with the officers and crew, it's another story. He's impatient, impulsive and does not respect his subordinates. Physical mistreatment is a regular occurrence, for instance.” 

“Would it be too much to hope for a mutiny?” Ackbar wondered. 

Armitage shrugged. 

“They certainly dream about it, but to execute such a plan against a Force-user is something else.” 

The old Admiral grumbled between his teeth, clearly disappointed. 

“Anyway,” Holdo went on, “regardless of who will lead the attack against this ship, I require that everyone be ready to leave at first notice. Pack your bags and make sure you can reach your designated transport as fast as possible.” 

A wave of approval spread through the audience, though Armitage noticed some Republic pilots casting annoyed looks at Poe. They considered him more or less like a deserter, so seeing him in command of his own squadron must have rankled. 

Holdo spent more time giving instructions to her captains, before sending everyone to prepare for evacuation. They had been working on it for less than five hours when their situation worsened again. 

* * 

“A star destroyer emerging from hyperspace! Enemy approaching,” a technician groaned. 

"Kriff! We must take them out before they can detect the shuttles! We should have gone faster!" 

“Start evacuation immediately!” Holdo called out. “Shit, I was not expecting them that soon... All non-fighting staff first!” 

An automated voice called all the pilots to their ships. Poe was in flight suit, helmet under his arm and running into the corridor in five minutes, Armitage and BB-8 on his heels. 

“If I get out of this mess alive and in one piece, I swear I'll make an honest man of you,” Poe promised as they ran towards their respective transports. 

“I'll hold you to it, if Ren doesn't skin me for a doormat first!” Armitage countered. 

“Noted!” 

“You need me to repair your droid, anyway!” 

“Yeah, I love you too!” 

Thankfully, Armitage did not pause in the middle of the corridor to ponder what Poe had just said. He waved one last salute to the pilot and kept running. Having a session to discuss feelings and such right as a battle started around would have been both deadly dangerous and... really awkward. Better find his X-Wing before he started mulling over things… 

Climbing into the cockpit, BB-8 beeping from its slot, was at least something familiar. His hands fell onto the commands automatically. 

_Don't think about the cruisers. Focus on the fucking battle... Watch the TIEs, not your comlink._

His fighter burst out into open space and he veered towards the approaching star destroyer. 

“Retreat as soon as you’ve disabled their TIEs,” Ackbar’s voice said through the speakers. “Do not try to bomb the destroyer itself. We have few ships enough as it is.” 

“Understood. And let the fun begin,” Poe added between his teeth. 

He fell silent as he sped towards the enemy. It was not only a matter of getting a new record. It was not just him and his squadron. They had a bunch of civilians and unarmed people to shield. Not giving his best was not an option. 

Once he got into the fight, time seemed to vanish around him. He shot every target in range methodically, almost clinically, never pausing to see if Holdo’s shuttles were still up and leaving the sector. 

A plasma beam grazed his X-Wing, prompting a worried trill from his astromech. Around him, ships fired, got hit, vanished in an explosion of white and yellows sparks… He pursued one TIE after the other, turning them into balls of molten steel before going after another target. 

“Retreat,” a voice called in his speakers. “The evacuation is finished. Retreat immediately.” 

Poe hesitated for a second or two, then sent his fighter in a wide arc to join the rest of the squadrons, sprinting towards what remained of their bait ship before jumping into hyperspace to the coordinates Holdo had provided them before they took off. 

* * 

They emerged over Sullust half a day later. It was high time for Poe to stretch his legs, but before landing in one of the cruisers’ bays, he took a look at their fleet to make sure everything was all right. 

All the ships save two shuttles had passed. They were safe. Poe let out a long sigh of relief. Then his comlink began to beep. He picked it and read the short message that appeared on the screen.   

_Am fine. Jyn pissed as Hell, wanted to fight._

Poe chuckled at that. Of course Jyn Erso was itching for a fight. She loved hitting troopers about as much as he loved flying. 

_Will have a lot of stuff to repair, too. Bloody pilots!_ was the next message and Poe laughed out loud in his cockpit, bringing a series of curious beeps from his droid. 

Once he had been checked-up and cleared, Poe went in search of a refresher. He reeked, honestly. Going there, he crossed paths with the former stormtrooper who had helped him. 

Finn had gotten an almost constant companion in the person of Rose Tico, one of their mechanics. Under the pretext of checking his prosthesis, she spent a noticeable amount of time with him. Nice, but not as smooth as she thought. In fact, she was so obvious that a new betting pool had been started about the moment Finn would notice her interest. Nonetheless, it was sweet and somewhat reassuring to know that even in the middle of a disastrous conflict people still had the time to show kindness and fall in love. 

Poe wished he had that time. 

He got it in the most unexpected way.


	10. One leaves, one comes in

Armitage was neck deep into repairs, working on astromechs, on damaged circuits, on a fighter… He was not, by far, the only engineer available, but there were so many things to do that he would work all day and then come to the bunk he shared with Poe only to fall asleep the second his head touched the pillow. A bit frustrating, but the pilot let him have his rest. Gods knew he deserved it.

“You’ve know him for long?” Finn asked Poe three days after the battle, as they had lunch together with Rose. 

“I met him when we were both kids, after my mother’s death. I spent some time with his parents and him. He liked showing me stuff, plants I didn’t know, things he was tinkering with in the garage… We remained in contact after that, but I didn’t see him again in person before he came to work for the Senate. We got… closer then. Two years and a half together, seven years apart,” Poe concluded. “I'm not sure he will ever trust me fully again. But I want to try. I want him to feel safe around me. I'd give anything to make him laugh again.” 

Finn patted his shoulder. 

“You'll have to get rid of the First Order before you can get that, I'm afraid. And hope someone shoots Kylo Ren, on top of that.” 

Poe nodded miserably. A sniper might be able to do that, perhaps. 

* * 

They had been orbiting Sullust for six days when representatives from several Rim systems and colonies showed up for an impromptu conference. The fact they had come at all was heartwarming in itself, but the Resistance should not get their hopes too high. At least this way they could only be pleasantly surprised if they got something for their pleas. 

“Where is General Organa?” Statura wondered. “I don't think she left her cabin this morning.” 

“I’ll go fetch her,” Connix offered. “She said she was really tired last night.” 

The young woman left, and came back some minutes later, her face pale and streaked with tears. 

“Som… someone will have to call Captain Solo,” she stammered, before falling on a seat, sobbing. 

It took everyone a moment to process what she meant. 

“She… she cannot be… dead?” 

For once, Admiral Statura almost sounded pleading. 

“Not now…” Brance muttered. 

They sent one of their medidroids in her room to determine the cause of death. Heart attack during her sleep, the droid stated after examining the body. She had not felt a thing, not that it brought any relief to the rest of the Resistance. Organa had shared her vision for the future, but some were already doubting anyone else could carry it. 

“That won’t do at all...” Ackbar groaned. “What are they, honestly? Headless chickens? Going on without her will be hard, but not impossible. If we start thinking like this, the First Order has already won.” 

That managed to calm down the most anxious. For the moment. 

Soon after, the _Falcon_ landed in one of the cruiser’s hangars, Solo emerging from his ship with a grey face and apparently unable to stand straight without the help of his copilot. Though, to be honest, Chewbacca was also walking with his head down and without a sound. 

Silently, they crossed the central and went to the General’s room, the rest of the crew remaining respectfully at at distance. Chewbacca stood at the door while the old man stayed with his wife for almost an hour. 

After they had retreated back into the _Falcon_ , Poe hesitantly walked to the room and cast a quick look inside. 

She looked so peaceful and well-rested like this, an expression Poe had never seen on her face while she lived. He felt a tight knot in his throat as he watched Holdo place a pair of white, star-like flowers between Leia's folded hands. 

“Naboo tradition,” she said in a small voice. “I’ve always liked those flowers anyway, so I had some on my desk...” 

Tears began rolling on her hollow cheeks and Poe looked away; if he cracked now he would never stop. 

“I loved her, you know?” Holdo whispered softly. “It was hopeless but I've never been able to quit.” 

He had not known, no. But he understood nonetheless. 

* * 

They could not give her a proper funeral. They would have liked to say their farewells in the traditional Alderaanian way, but you could not bury people on Sullust, only burn them, and going to the colony set by the Princess’ compatriots would use too much fuel. They would have to settle for putting her body in a pod and send it into Sullust’s atmosphere, turning the pod and its content into a bright meteor. 

It was beautiful, in a way. 

They would not have much time to mourn, tough. Once the repairs on the ships and fighters were finished, they would have to leave. And there was still the conference to attend. The negotiators seemed, thankfully, a bit less aggressive now than they had been at their arrival. They drove a hard bargain nonetheless. After several hours of exchanges, it was agreed that the systems they represented would lend several ships to the Resistance, as long as they could loot whatever they wished from the First Order convoys they would attack. That left a sour taste in many mouths on the Resistance side but they did not have much of a choice. 

The representatives were taking their leave when the little fleet got an unpleasant surprise. 

“Transmission incoming sir!” a technician told Statura. “And a battleship coming out of hyperspace!” 

“First Order?” 

“The energy signature looks more like an old Empire destroyer.” 

And indeed, the silhouette of an old-school Star Destroyer soon appeared on their scopes. 

“Look at the patterns on the ship's underbelly,” Ackbar interfered. “They are somewhat fam... The _Chimaera_ ”, he growled. 

Armitage blinked several times. He had read that Thrawn had somehow vanished from Imperial territory slightly before Endor, but what the hell was he doing there? If he was still at the helm – the man must have been eighty or close enough. 

“They’re sending their message on our old channel, Admiral. Alliance codes.” 

“Take it.” 

There was a moment of complete silence as they watched a well-known face appear in the projector beam. 

Luke Skywalker had a short, greying beard now, and he had abandoned his Jedi attire for more discreet and practical clothes. Otherwise, he did not look so different from the last time Armitage and Poe had seen him. 

“Luke?” Han stammered, unable to believe his own eyes. 

His brother-in-law’s flickering image nodded. 

“Hello, Han. It has been a while, I know.” 

“You… you are on the _Chimaera_?” 

“Indeed. Don’t worry, I will explain the how and why soon, if you accept the offer that will be made within the next minutes. I grieve for you, my friend. I had hoped we would reach you before she passed away.” 

“Yeah… that would have been… are you well?” 

The unspoken question being ‘Are you forced to be there?’ 

“I am fine, and glad to see you in person again. I will take my leave for now, and let the Admiral state the Imperials’ proposal.” 

Another entering communication beeped on the main console. This time, the speaker was an elderly woman with dark skin and half a dozen thick braids of grey hair. 

“Rae Sloane,” Brance commented. “Would you believe that...” 

“Holy shit! Thrawn lets her run _his own flagship_?!” 

Han had forgotten his grief for a moment in his surprise. 

“Well, _that's_ what I call trust,” Holdo muttered. 

“My apologies for appearing in such a dreadful time,” Sloane said in a neutral tone. “It seems, however, that we have a common problem known as the First Order, and that we might work on a solution that would be satisfying for both our sides.” 

“Depends on how many ships you can bring to the table,” Statura commented. 

“More than you, and in much better shape,” was the sharp reply. “Are you willing to come aboard, or must I leave, and Skywalker with me?” 

“We will join you shortly,” Statura promised. 

As soon as the communication cut, he turned towards the others. 

“I suggest only one of us goes, and one representative as well. This way, even if it’s a trap, enough of the high command will remain.” 

“I will go,” Holdo immediately offered. “Sloane vanished into the Unknown Regions before I received my first command of a fleet, so she probably doesn’t know much about me. And she won’t take me too seriously either, if I pull it right.” 

Meaning she would take her usual eccentricity up to eleven. 

* * 

Poe did not know what to think of this new development. Unexpected, to be sure. He hoped the negotiations with Admiral Sloane were genuine and would offer a reprieve, no matter how brief. They all desperately needed a break, some rest and warm food, preferably not seasoned with cyanide. It was strange to consider that an Imperial destroyer might be the safest place for them right now. 

Jyn Andor-Erso considered that situation with more enthusiasm (or whatever had replaced it in her mind). 

“I'm going as well. I _want_ to greet good old Luke properly, you see.” 

Armitage groaned, barely resisting the impulse to facepalm. 

“And I want to meet this Admiral Sloane in person, too. She seems like an interesting character.” 

This time he laughed. Amilyn Holdo, Jyn Erso and Rae Sloane in the same room? That was going to be _awesome_... from a safe distance. Perhaps it would be wiser to come as well to keep an eye on his mother and her infamous temper. 

It manifested almost as soon as they boarded the Chimaera and found Luke waiting for them in the hangar. 

“Luke! Where the hell have you been all this time?” 

The old man startled at Jyn's roar, before sighing in defeat. 

“Hello, Jyn. Nice to see you again as well.” 

“It always pleases me to see old friends reconnect.” 

And Rae Sloane always knew how to make the perfect entrance, it seemed, even when sitting in a hoverchair. 

“Care to explain how you found yourself here?” Jyn asked the old Jedi. 

He shrugged. 

“When Admiral Sloane comes to ask you something with two battleships in orbit, and you're not the only sentient on your island, usually you don't say no.” 

Behind him, Sloane smirked, straightening in her chair, her hands flat on the armrests in the most 'I am the boss and you can't do anything about it' pose Poe had ever seen. She did not even blink when Holdo joined in full mourning dress, dark makeup around her eyes and on her forehead included, the short trail of her black robes rustling behind her. Luke, Poe and Armitage let the officers pass, then followed. 

“You seem disappointed,”Luke observed, turning towards Poe. 

“With all due respect, I think that 'disappointed' does not event _begin_ to cover it!” the younger man hissed, balling his fists. “Why… why did you hide for so long? We needed you, for kriff’s sake!” 

He did not wait for an answer and walked faster to catch up with the Admirals. 

“And what about Wedge?” Armitage went on. “Do you have any idea how... -” 

Luke nodded sadly. 

“Oh yes, I do. But don't you think he already had a large enough target on his back? Staying with him, or bringing him with me, would have put him at risk. More than usual. I... I've stayed at his bedside in a medbay far too often, you know. I didn't want to bury him on top of everything. I think you know the feeling.” 

Armitage swallowed with difficulty. Of course he knew. He had a pilot of his own, after all. 

“You saved his life, among so many others, with your sabotage. And for that, I am infinitely grateful. If there is anything I can do for you...” 

“Ask your Force to keep Dameron alive and safe. I'm ready to pay for it, whatever the cost.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yes, Han is still alive here. He participated in the attack on Starkiller, but did not go after Kylo Ren. He had a long chat with Poe about what had happened on Jakku beforehand, and decided that he would not risk his life and the mission for the kind of person his son had become.


	11. Something like holidays

Armitage and Poe remained in the conference room only to present some data, but did not rank high enough to stay for the whole duration of the negotiations. They were allowed to wander in some restricted sections of the destroyer, though, and Poe went looking for a workshop so BB-8 could get some of his circuits cleaned. Armitage chose to stroll in the corridors, aware of the trooper following him at a distance.

He walked to one of the decks, thinking that a bit of 'meditation' watching the stars would help him relax a bit. So far the Imperials had acted rather courteously but he remained on edge nonetheless. To his displeasure, he found he was not alone. A woman was standing before the wide windows and he was not surprised to recognize the girl from Takodana. He had come to that conclusion a long time ago. She had exchanged her civilian clothes for the strict, black uniform of the special forces, though without any mark of rank. 

Though he had made no sound, standing on the threshold, she turned towards him. The Force, of course. 

“You are one of the defectors, aren't you?” 

Armitage sneered in his best imitation of his biological father. 

“I was never part of the Empire to begin with, so defection was not an option.” 

She nodded with something like approval. 

“Correct answer.” 

“I don't care for your games,” he snapped, annoyed by her smug expression. “I'm here only because your fleet will be useful. Have a good night.” 

Tapping impatiently on his comlink, he found out where Poe had gone and joined him and his droid as they made their way to the hangar where their transport was docked for a quick chat with the rest of the squadron. 

“Good news,” a familiar voice greeted them on the radio, “Rapier is back online!” 

“Hello, Pava. Nice to hear you again. Everybody's all right?” Poe inquired. 

“We are. Our fighters took a beating, though. You think we could get some of those T-85 to replace the 70?” Jess asked hopefully. 

“If we hijack them, yeah, probably,” Karé snarled. “No way the Republic will ever let us test those beauties. Even after Starkiller they still don't want to help, in case the First Order would go after their heads.” 

“And we _did_ broadcast the news about that station...” Armitage sighed. “Perhaps I should have let them blow a planet or two, this way we would be taken more seriously...” 

Poe leaned forward to kiss his hair. 

“I don't think you could let billions of people die just to prove your point, Tage.” 

“Try me.” 

Jessika snickered. 

“Ya think we can trust Admiral Sloane?” Karé went on, “or should we prepare for another battle?” 

“Unlikely,” Armitage replied. “Wasting time with fake negotiations serves no goal, so I suppose she's honest.” 

“I wonder what she's going to put on her to-do list first, with everything we brought to her door,” Poe commented. 

“Holdo, without a doubt,” Armitage replied. 

Poe almost chocked on his soup, much to the rest of the squadron's amusement. 

* * 

Surprising absolutely no one, Captain Solo and Chewie had chosen to remain on the Falcon, as well as Finn and Rose. Poe, on the other hand, would be glad to leave their crowded shuttles and cruisers at least for a night. He needed some time alone with his partner. So far they only had snatched enough time for a quick and not quite satisfying fuck in the showers before leaving D'Qar. That was a bit light after seven years of separation. 

No one had apparently paid any attention to the fact they bunked together. They were probably not the only ones in the fleet, anyway. Armitage smiled as he watched Poe sit on the mattress and bounce slightly off it. 

“Comfortable enough,” the pilot said. “It cannot hurt, after all this time flying.” 

He stood up again to pick a change of clothes in his bag. 

“I think you can forget about these,” Armitage told him. 

“Oh?” 

The engineer eyed him with a smirk. 

“I suggest you take your current set of clothes off. No rush.” 

“I like this idea...” 

Poe was not exactly an expert at strip-teases, but he managed to do it without tripping on his own socks. All things considered, not a bad performance. Armitage was chuckling from his perch against the pillow, enjoying the show. Poe walked towards the bed, flushing a bit at the attention he received. He sat besides Armitage and began to undress him, pausing here and there to touch him. All his clothes finally ended on the floor. 

“How do you want it, pilot?” the engineer asked, teasing. 

“I want...” Poe hesitated. “I want you to be the only person in my mind, for this night and... the rest of my life, preferably. So pick all your tricks.” 

“A very ambitious program,” Armitage stated, “but I'll do my best.” 

They switched places so that Poe was lying on the sheets, Armitage kneeling between his legs. Poe closed his eyes as his partner began massaging his thighs. They did not have enough room to do anything 'acrobatic' but the pilot would not mind something simple for once. He sighed and let himself sink deeper into the pillow as he felt the tension of the past days melt under his partner's hands. 

“You have some lube in your bag? Else we'll have to postpone, dear.” 

Poe nodded, eyes still closed, and Armitage huffed before hopping from the bed to retrieve the small bottle in the pilot's travel bag. As 'revenge' for being forced to leave the bed, he did not let the gel warm on his hand before coating a finger with it and tracing the cleft between Poe's cheeks, smirking when the other man yelped at the cold sensation. 

“You little shit...” Poe growled. “I'm so going to -” 

“To nothing, my dear. You wouldn't want me to stop now, right?” 

A pitiful groan replied him, followed by a more satisfied “Gods, yes...” when Armitage finally slipped a finger in. He toyed with Poe for a moment, until the pilot begged for more. Armitage obliged with a second finger, but going so slowly that Poe began threatening him with various unsavory fates if he did not hurry up a bit - not very effective when one is on his back with his legs spread and still asking for more... 

“Need you inside, please.” 

“As you wish.” 

Armitage kissed Poe's neck and peppered his chest with a series of quick pecks, before grabbing the pillow and stuffing it under Poe's hips. Despite his lover's repeated pleas, he took some time slicking himself. The last thing he wanted was to hurt Poe in any way. 

When he finally pushed in, Poe let out a long sigh, his hands gripping the redhead's forearms for leverage as he tried to urge him to go deeper, faster. Armitage bit his lip, clinging to the last remains of his self-control. He wanted Poe to feel cared for, appreciated and _safe_ , not to botch this in a matter of seconds. Poe's hands moved from his arms to his shoulders, pulling him down for another kiss, teeth gently nipping at his lower lip. Armitage slid a hand between them, wrapping his fingers around Poe's cock, causing the pilot to gasp and arch his back, clenching his teeth to stifle his moans, Poe's nails digging into his back... 

The pilot muffled his shout against Armitage's shoulder when he came, his release leaving him shaking under his lover's hands, the other man following shortly after. He calmed down progressively, his breathing evening by degrees until he was lying quietly in Armitage's arms, his head resting on the other man's chest. 

“Worth the wait...” he mumbled, already half-asleep. 

“I should hope so,” Armitage whispered, concluding with a kiss on Poe's forehead. “Excuse me...” 

He reached over his head and fumbled to find the pillow on the bunk above theirs, caught it and arranged it so they could sleep more comfortably. Nestled under the blanket, it did not take them long to doze off. No nightmares this time. 

* * 

On the following morning, they emerged later than usual, due to the lack of alarms ringing, and since they were not needed for the negotiations (Holdo would call them if their input was required, anyway), they headed towards the hangar reserved for the Resistance fighters. Poe wanted to secure a channel to try and contact his father. The gods only knew what Kes had heard about him or the Resistance. He did not know what he would do if Kes did not reply. He would not consider it. 

Poe had a hard time hiding his dismay, though, when he got redirected to an automated reply message. Kes was away for a week or so, the message said, on a business travel to Serenno markets. It was plausible, Poe admitted, but he would have felt better to hear his father in person nonetheless. 

Luke joined the pilots soon after midday, apparently happy to remember a bit of his youth by chatting with them. The conversation drifted towards the First Order and its leader soon enough, though. 

“General Organa seemed to believe that Snoke had groomed Ben since birth, or something like that,” Poe commented. 

The old knight shook his head. 

“It's a mother's normal reaction not to hold her child responsible, but I don't think so. Snoke certainly observed him from afar, but I suspect he cultivated preexisting tendencies rather than created them from scratch, using Ben's complexes to model him as he wished. Ben has always been too happy to indulge into his every whim. And since he's been kept into this juvenile state of mind for years, well past into adulthood without any other influence, he's unable to change his behavior or to consider Force-blinds as more than animals to serve him. I think Armitage is right, and that the First Order won't tolerate him for long.” 

They could hope so, at least, but the new Supreme Leader would never go down without a fight. 

* * 

During the following week, participants came and went aboard the _Chimaera_. Most were Imperial officers, but Poe also spotted two Chiss and some representatives from the Outer Rim. The star destroyer almost looked like a market fair, though it did not seem to disturb the crew. After Grand Admiral Thrawn and his collection of improbable geniuses, the officers and soldiers aboard must have become rather blasé. They also acted quite courteously towards the Resistance. The fact that most of the staff was too young to have fought against the Empire certainly helped. Even Captain Solo managed to remain quite civil, the younger officers regularly asking him questions about his point of view on such and such battle. 

By the time every diplomat summoned by Sloane had provided their own news and proposals, a whole week had gone by. The First Order did not seem much more active, Kylo Ren still looking for his uncle rather than hunting the Resistance. 

_Still unable to see past the tip of his big nose_ , Armitage thought disdainfully. _I wonder how many experienced officers he killed for disagreeing with his methods._

Sloane might be old but she would wipe the floor with the Supreme Leader's so-called strategy. And Thrawn might even come out of his semi-retirement to enjoy the show. Truth be told, Armitage had always wanted to meet the Grand Admiral, a wish that his decades of Alliance education had not completely erased. He discovered that some of his colleagues were equally curious regarding the almost legendary Imperial. 

So far they were reasonably hopeful regarding the results of the conference. The Imperial Remnant had adapted its policies to include non-humans and their decentralized government was almost Republic-compatible, though their respective leaders would inevitably butt heads on some points... but preferably after defeating the First Order. There were already rumors of desertions among the technical staff and low-ranking officers, though none of them had shown up either on the Resistance's side or the old Empire's. Still, it was good to know. 

Master Skywalker did not interfere with the political process though he often inquired about Sloane's findings on Snoke's experiments with the Force. 

“Reyna is the first survivor you found in those facilities, but there were others, if I am not mistaken,” Luke stated. “I felt at least two other Force-sensitives among your crew, and they are remarkably strong.” 

Sloane's expression pinched. 

“There were six of those laboratories. We managed to detect and raid five of them, taking as many children as possible, but the sixth escaped us so far.” 

Holdo blinked, paling slightly. 

“You mean they may have carried on with those experiments?” 

The Grand Admiral nodded grimly. 

“They have enough staff and prisoners to provide the samples, after all. I am not sure whether Kylo Ren knows about this operation but I would rather put an end to it before he gets his hands on this lab.” 

Luke reported this conversation to the Resistance, which caused a rather... explosive reaction from Poe. Armitage ushered Finn, Rose and the other pilots out of the room before he tried to calm his fuming partner. They had vaguely discussed the possibility of children. Medical technology was advanced enough that same-sex couples could have biological children without resorting to a donor after all, but with the war still ongoing, it was a mere dream. Poe could not tolerate the mere idea that the enemy would manage to use yet another part of him after cracking his mind open for the map to Skywalker. 

“Need for damage control?” Captain Solo asked, his head the only part of his person poking through the entrance of the room. 

“Thank you for the offer, Captain, but I assure you it won't be necessary,” Armitage told the older man. 

Solo looked skeptical but he left them alone nonetheless, probably considering to send them his copilot if things took a turn for the worse. He should not have worried, though, since Poe deflated almost immediately, ashamed to have lost control before witnesses. 

“I’m sorry,” he muttered. “That was not… particularly smart.” 

“Don’t worry. You had every right to be angry,” Armitage said in a soothing tone. 

He could only hope that, had samples been indeed taken, no one would have the time to produce a child out of them. Not like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of smut, for once...


	12. His last bow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I killed someone again. Sorry.

After ten days of negotiations interrupted here and there by spies reporting, Ackbar, Holdo and Sloane had managed to craft a relatively satisfying truce between their respective forces so they could coordinate their efforts against the First Order. The broadcast of Starkiller’s destruction had attracted the attention of many neutral parties and during the last two days of the summit, communications had flared like never before. Some familiar faces had reappeared, such as one Lando Calrissian. Captain Solo did not seem to know exactly what to make of his former partner in crime, torn between relief at seeing him again and anger that he had not reacted sooner. He chose to deal with that particular can of worms later, so that they could all present a united front when facing the First Order. 

The opportunity came sooner than expected. One of Armitage's spywares aboard the _Finalizer_ sent a message signaling that the star destroyer had changed course and was headed towards the Core, along with the massive _Supremacy_ and several other units. Either Ren wanted to attack Hosnia Prime or he had set his sights on the factories and shipyards of the Colonies and Inner Rim. Armitage would bet on the former, as Ren alone would not have enough of a strategic mind to think about the resources available. The man thought only in terms of symbols and his use of the Force. Intercepting them before they reached the capitol would be a challenge, particularly with older ships such as the _Chimaera_ but if they could avoid a repeat of the battle above Coruscant at the end of the Clones wars, all the better. 

* * 

The Force must have been displeased with them, because they did not manage to catch up with the Order before their ships reached Motexx. Less populated than the capitol, but still a heavy loss, should anything larger than a freighter crash on its surface. There were tons of potential toxic waste in the warehouses of that industrial world. 

On the radar screens they saw a total of eight ships, each coming with its squadrons of fighters. In theory, they had the adequate numbers to fight them off, but Armitage was not sure what kind of training the Imperials had received during all those years. 

All the pilots were called to their ships as soon as they had visual contact. Poe was already on his way, while Armitage adjusted BB-8's antenna one last time. 

“Do try not to break it, this time.” 

The droid beeped sadly, Armitage reaching to pat its domed 'head'. 

“I know. Take care of him as much as you can, will you?" 

The following beep sounded like an indignant scoff which made him smile. 

“Of course. I can't go up there with him; piloting has never been my forte, I'm afraid. So I delegate.” 

Another string of more confident beeps replied him. 

“Perfect.” 

Then the little droid rolled away, back to the hangar where its ship was stationed and Dameron waiting for him. Armitage had just 'forgotten' to mention he would be on the field as well, his knowledge of the _Finalizer_ used for sabotage. 

He would not go alone, of course. Skywalker and Miss Reyna to deal with Kylo Ren, Jyn, Mr Finn and himself to plant explosives and cause as much damage as possible. And if there was a god for little saboteurs like them, they would all come back out of that mess alive. 

At least the former trooper was not looking at Armitage as if he felt personally offended by his very existence. He thankfully spent more time chatting with Rose Tico. These two were taking their sweet time making a move, despairing even the most patient of gamblers. Armitage could understand, though, that after her sister's death in battle, poor Rose would wish to take it easy and slow for a while. 

A small shuttle was waiting for them in a secured hangar, along with Admirals Holdo and Sloane for one last briefing. It consisted mostly of orders not to shoot at their reluctant, temporary, partners, but in Armitage's opinion, a little repeat could not hurt. 

Admiral Sloane was staring at him with something akin to regret. Had he been taken along with the Commandant, he might have become her student. Fate was a funny thing like that. Being Sloane's pupil rather than Jyn and Cassian's would have made him a complete mirror image to Poe, he thought with a touch of dark amusement. An image hell-bent on destroying the pilot, and vice-versa, until nothing of them remained but ashes and molten metal. What a waste it would have been. And what a cold life he would have led as well. 

Reyna was a good illustration of what he could have become. Sloane might show some kind of affection towards the girl, but she mostly saw the young Force-user as a very valuable asset. Armitage would never be able to feel the Force, but even without it he could sense the difference between Reyna’s cold and determined presence and Skywalker’s warm aura. Speaking of Reyna, he saw her exchange codes for her comlink with Sloane, while Holdo turned towards her own underlings. 

“Good luck to you,” Admiral Holdo told them. “And please, if you can avoid it, no heroic sacrifice. Victory is one thing, but don't forget the aftermath.” 

They nodded, well aware that sometimes, sacrifices could just not be avoided. With one last salute to the officers, they boarded the shuttle and took off, Reyna obviously pleased to pilot the ship. 

“Is there anything I can do for you?” she asked sweetly as Armitage sat besides her. 

“Should you see Kylo Ren again, can I have his head on a spike?” 

She let out a bitter laugh. 

“I was going to get it anyway.” 

He smiled thinly. They were going to get along fabulously well after all, he thought. 

“Any objection?” she added, turning towards Skywalker. 

“Not a single one.” 

Armitage did not know what had been planned for Ren, in truth, though he kept his fingers crossed for the darksider to die in another senseless fight against Rey or his uncle. That would be yet another blow to Organa’s memory, but Ren would always remain a liability and, should he be captured, would not lead to anything good. He was too far gone for that. 

* * 

The shuttle was partially cloaked, made to look more like a satellite or a debris drifting through space. The FO TIE fighters were thankfully paying more attention to the Resistance and Imperials rushing towards them as well as the planetary defenses, as the camouflage would not hold against a close inspection. 

“All their fighters are out,” Luke commented. “Their docking bays will be empty. Any idea on which ship we can find Kylo Ren?” 

“The _Supremacy_ ,” Armitage replied at once. “Unless he is piloting his Silencer somewhere out there.” 

“That would be unfortunate,” the old Jedi said mildly. “Anyway, sabotaging their fleet's largest destroyer is an opportunity we should not waste. Are you familiar with it?” he asked, turning towards Armitage and Finn. 

The former trooper shook his head. 

“Only been on the _Finalizer_ , sir.” 

“Tage?” 

“I visited once. I can guide you to the reactors, I think. But that thing is _huge_. We'll need some diversion.” 

Luke and Reyna exchanged a glance. _Why did I even bother to ask?_ Armitage thought. 

A closer view of the Supremacy was a rather sobering experience. Reading its specifications in a file was one thing, seeing it in action... Almost sixty clicks wide and armed consequently. 

“Can we adapt the radar camouflage on that thing to make it look like a damaged TIE?” Finn wondered. 

“Err... you might be asking a bit too much,” Reyna conceded. “But I can set it to make us look smaller.” 

It worked until a lone fighter, coming back to its mother-ship for repairs, spotted them. 

“Uh oh...” 

“Please tell me this thing has shields!” 

It had, and weapons as well, but as far as discretion was concerned, they were done. The TIE exploded in a ball of burning gases and metal shards before it could truly damage the shuttle, but the attack had probably been spotted by the bridge control. Reyna brought them to the other side of the massive starship, looking for an unguarded hangar. 

“Here,” Finn pointed. “It's empty and if we destroy the field generators, the doors will close automatically.” 

“Sure, but it will also trigger an alarm,” Jyn pointed out. 

“We'll have to take the risk, else we'll never board that ship. Safety belts, please,” Reyna announced. 

Two shots took care of the generators and she had taken them so close to the ship that they had ample time to get in and land safely before the massive doors locked shut behind them. 

“Extra credits for you,” Luke mumbled, causing Reyna to stick her tongue at him. 

Sometimes she seemed to remember she was only nineteen, after all. 

They had just the time to get out of the ship before the doors at the opposite end of the hangar opened, allowing a dozen troopers inside. 

“Take cover!” Jyn barked. 

The shuttle provided some shelter from the bolts, but they needed the ship relatively intact to leave the _Supremacy_. Better not tarry too long. 

Jyn's marksmanship was still as excellent as Armitage remembered. Cassian had given her some additional lessons while he trained Armitage and it had become a game of sorts between mother and son. They reignited their competition for this special occasion. Coupled to Finn's own precision and a pair of lightsabers, they cleaned up the room quickly. 

Silence followed the clash, and they carefully stepped into the corridor, looking out for any trooper aiming at them. Apparently the small group they had just dispatched had not had the time to signal their presence, but they had to move quickly before the soldiers' absence was noted. 

“There will be cameras along the way,” Finn pointed out. “We can't disable them all.” 

“A few here and there, with the Force,” Luke suggested, “to generate false alarms and send them on the wrong way.” 

The others nodded. 

“Let's go, then.” 

They progressed in the corridors, heading towards the engines rooms. The settings were similar enough to the _Finalizer_ that Armitage had no trouble finding his way, but the size of the ship made their progression too slow to his tastes. They had to disable that monster of a destroyer faster than this. 

“Agreed,” Reyna said. “There must be transports aboard to travel more quickly.” 

They had to grab one hapless technician, look into his mind and steal his access card to discover the existence of fast lifts that would get them to their destination in no time. The man was knocked out and left in a storeroom, much to Skywalker's amusement. 

“We did about the same with troopers investigating the Falcon, on the first Death Star,” he said. “We stuck them into the broom closet, and we had to stop on some backwater world to drop them before going to Yavin IV. Man, were they pissed about it...” 

He chuckled and even Reyna allowed herself a smile. Jyn had probably heard about it already, but she smirked nonetheless. 

In a matter of minutes, they were close to their objective, when the two Force-users tensed. 

“Ren's back,” Luke sighed. “He must have sensed Reyna and I. He's landing in one of the bays as we speak. We should better split, he will only follow our signature through the Force, and probably ignore your presence.” 

“Understood.” 

With a last pat on the shoulder, Luke left them, Reyna on his heels, while Armitage, his mother and Finn darted towards the engines section. No guards there, most of them had been called to the battle stations. The security had grown lax under the new ruler, it seemed. The only presence they encountered was a swarm of mouse droids at their usual tasks. 

“What's the plan?” Finn asked. 

“Make sure no one enters this compartment while I'm busy with it,” Armitage replied. “I'll cut the controls on the main reactor and lock the cooling system. That will make a lovely explosion, but give us enough time to get away.” 

“The radiations?” Jyn questioned. 

“No risk, as long as there's no leak in the confinement. Don't worry, I... won't jinx it with any over-optimistic claim.” 

“Smart boy,” Jyn said, ruffling his hair before she left. 

The access card opened the doors easily enough. He did not think he would have enough time to hack all the entry codes. The main control room was remarkably quiet compared to the rest of the _Supremacy_ , the technicians working as if nothing happened outside of their bubble. He considered shooting them but thought better of it and engaged the fire alarm instead. The staff reacted immediately, leaping from their chairs into the nearest corridor. One straggler noticed Armitage standing in a corner and tried to call the others back. The small blade Armitage hid in his sleeve cut through his uniform and straight to his heart before he could make a sound. 

Armitage laid him on the floor, pushing the corpse out of the way. The controls were thankfully similar to the consoles on the _Finalizer_ and he found the schematics of the cooling units soon enough. First he had to bypass the security protocols, then stop the main pump... retract some of the carbon bars, while he was at it. 

_We're in_ , Luke's voice suddenly signaled in his mind. _Not a single sentinel in sight. Not a trap._

There should have been guards around the Supreme Leader but they were now suspiciously missing as Reyna and Skywalker sneaked into Ren's new headquarters. _If even Snoke's praetorian guard refused to serve Ren... Well, he might have been right in believing that no one wants him around, after all._

_Ah... The Knights of Ren have been recalled. They are all gathered around their master._

Skywalker seemed more amused than alarmed by the fact. 

_Hurry up_ , Armitage sent back. _I've just sabotaged their main reactor._

This time he sensed a touch of urgency before Skywalker withdrew and left him alone with his own thoughts. 

His manipulations done, he hesitated, then chose not to cut the alarm. He wanted to destroy the ship, not to commit mass murder. There were at least two hundred thousands people on board. As much as he wished to turn the First Order into ashes, that was too high a price for him. They would evacuate and live, hopefully. He would probably have to shoot some of them anyway, if he wanted to get out of there alive and in one piece. 

Armitage swore when he noticed that his blaster was empty, and he did not have any more gas cartridge to reload it. He only had his blades to carry on. This excluded the stormtroopers and their armor, but officers and technicians were still in his scope. He landed a first hit on an unsuspecting Petty Officer - not Unamo, thank the Force - whose body he dragged in a corner. No blaster, unfortunately. He would be luckier with higher-ranking staff, he supposed. He was proven right a few minutes later. The Captain he stabbed between two ribs had a blaster on her belt, complete with refills. He felt much better with the familiar weight on his hip. 

As he ran in the corridors, he passed by some familiar faces. Ren had transferred a part of the _Finalizer_ 's crew on his own battleship, it seemed. And one of those faces was even more unwelcome than the others. The blond locks and thick protective glasses were unmistakable. 

Matt blinked several times, astonished to see his former colleague and bedwarmer again. 

“You...” 

“Leave this place while it's still time,” Armitage cut in. “This ship's going to be turned into a mini-nova any minute now.” 

Matt wanted to ask more questions but he did not have time for that. He turned on his heels and ran, the technician calling after him, the alarm still blaring above them. 

His comlink beeped as he ran towards the throne room. 

“Andor,” he replied. 

“Finn here. Got Phasma.” 

“Well done. The technical staff is evacuating.” 

“Good. We're ready to leave as well.” 

“I'll fetch Skywalker and Reyna. About fifteen minutes before the ship explodes, by the way.” 

“Noted.” 

* * 

It took Armitage six more minutes in the ultra-fast lift to reach Ren's sanctuary. The doors were wide open and for a moment, he had a hard time processing what he was seeing. 

Good thing the walls of the throne room were red, as it hid most of the blood that had splattered everywhere. The inside of that cavernous place was a study in carnage. Ren was lying at the foot of the throne, still breathing but obviously missing half his right arm. Armitage suspected the girl was to blame for this. He also noticed a kind of chip attached to the Supreme Leader's neck. Some control device, he assumed. The other Knights of Ren were all dead, various pieces of them littering the ground. Skywalker must have gotten a little bit angry with them as well... Wires still emitted some weak sparks where the ligthsabers had cut and burned through the walls and floor and thin plumets of smoke drifted in the recycled air. 

Reyna was kneeling above a body, her lightsaber switched off and clipped back to her belt. _Oh Maker..._

Armitage watched as Skywalker raised a trembling hand to touch the girl's cheek and something clicked in his mind. The old man had known, somehow, which samples had been used to create Reyna. On the other hand, she seemed completely oblivious, puzzled as she reached to grab the Jedi's hand. Perhaps it was for the best that she remained ignorant of her lineage, after all. The Skywalker legacy would carry on, but never burdened by the weight of a name, safely anonymous. 

“... t'was a pleasure, my dear...” the old man whispered. 

His hand fell and hit the floor. Then his body emitted a soft blue glow and soon Reyna had only a brown woolen cloak in her hands. 

“What...?” 

“Gone back to the Force,” Armitage murmured. “Finn,” he called into his comlink, “get the shuttle ready asap, we have a rather heavy load to bring back home.” _And I'll try to find a way to tell Solo the rest of his family is gone..._

He watched as Reyna rolled the cloak into a tight ball she wedged under her belt, before she extended a hand and Ren rose from the floor. _And we won't even have to drag him back to the hangar. Splendid!_

They left in a hurry, the young woman not bothering to steer Ren on a straight path and often sending him bumping into a wall. It was petty, but Armitage enjoyed the show nonetheless. 

The whole _Supremacy_ was in chaos around them. Paradoxically it made it easier for them to flee. No one truly paid any attention to them, and Ren's face was not so well-known among the crew and staff of the giant ship. They reached the hangar with two minutes to go before the reactor reached the point of no return. 

“You got Ren!” Finn exclaimed. “Wonderful! They’re all going to fight for leadership now!” 

They dumped the Supreme Leader unceremoniously in the back of their shuttle, shackling him to a support beam for good measure. Even without the Force, Ren was physically stronger than any of them. Then again, with just the one hand, there was not much he could do. 

“Were is Luke?” Jyn asked, though she probably knew the answer already. 

Both Armitage and Reyna shook their head, while Finn launched the takeoff procedure. 

“I'd rather be back with Luke alive and just Ren's head,” Jyn growled, “but we can't always have what we want, right?” 

As usual, she snarled and barked so she would not cry in public. 

They remained silent during their trip back to their fleet among a battlefield strewn with debris and the floating carcasses of disabled starships.


	13. Everything quiet, for a minute

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit shorter than usual this time. Between the office and the snow, things were quite a mess here.   
> Now if Canadians could stop making fun of us, it would be nice ;p

They had switched their shields to the rear of the shuttle but even that was not enough to completely cushion the ship against the massive wave of energy that hit them when the _Supremacy_ 's main reactor blew up. Armitage resisted the temptation to take a look of his fireworks, knowing his eyes wouldn't resist such an intense light. The shuttle faltered, shadows dancing wildly over the walls and control panels, lamps flickering above them. Finn nearly crashed into the commands, and caught himself just in time.

They limped back towards the nearest cruiser, which happened to be the _Chimaera_ , flying in zigzags to avoid being hit by pieces of twisted metal or the occasional unfortunate pilot ejected from his fighter. Armitage forced himself not to look at them too closely. 

Sloane welcomed them aboard with something akin to relief. 

“Mission accomplished,” she said, managing not to sound too smug about it. “The destruction of their capital ship damaged several cruisers and star destroyers, and managed to turn one into ashes. They lost most of their fighters as well. Ours fared better, but no by much, though. Regarding your side, I'm afraid two frigates were completely disabled, and your X-Wings took a nasty battering. Did you bring anything of value?” 

“Kylo Ren is still stunned and shackled in the shuttle,” Jyn replied, “and your Force-user is alive and well. We can't say the same about Luke.” 

“Oh...” 

Sloane bowed slightly and hesitantly put a hand on Jyn's shoulder. 

“I will let you go back to your friends,” she said. “It is only fair that the Republic gets to judge the Supreme Leader, as they were the first and foremost victims of his actions. But we would like a seat among the judges, if your government doesn't mind. We might have a thing or two to say about the First Order.” 

“We'll transmit your request,” Jyn promised. 

“Thank you very much.” 

“I'll go with them,” Reyna said, “at least to make sure Ren is properly locked up.” 

She saluted her Admiral and Sloane nodded, ordering a pair of technicians to check the shuttle for damages. 

* * 

“Special ops coming back from the _Supremacy_ , Admiral.” 

Poe saw Holdo's shoulders sag a bit with relief. He wished he could share it. The battle had cost so many lives again... Karé was locked up in a room, howling her grief after Snap had been killed, caught between two First Order TIEs. Major Ematt had been on one of the frigates destroyed by the massive canon of the _Judicatrix_... Several Imperial pilots were gathered in a corner of the hangar, mourning their own comrades. One kind soul had brought them a pot of hot caf and mugs to warm them up and comfort them a bit before they went back to their own battleship. 

With a nod, Holdo signaled him to follow her, as a quite battered shuttle landed in an empty spot near the TIEs. The first to emerge from the little ship was Jyn Erso, not a scratch on her for once and looking quite pleased with herself. Then Finn followed her out. 

Rose Tico was the first to break into a run towards the little group, laughing as Finn caught her, nearly stumbling on the ramp, and Poe thought his heart would stop when he spotted a familiar red head among the commando. 

Crimson droplets splattered his right sleeve and side, and the tip of a blade pointed from under the cloth. _How many did he..._

But none of the blood was his. 

_He’s safe. Thank the Maker, he’s safe._

This time, Poe did not hesitate. He rushed towards the engineer and hugged him to his chest as if his live depended on it. They heard Jess Pava groan something but could not make out the words, too busy checking each other for wounds. 

“Alive... and in one piece,” Armitage whispered, his hands still clutching the pilot's flysuit wit obvious relief. 

“And your skin is entirely intact, I gather.” 

“Yeah. It is.” 

“Find a room, you two...” Finn's voice grumbled from behind them, though the younger man seemed more amused than truly annoyed. 

He had had some trouble trusting Armitage at first, not being completely able to separate him from his First Order persona, but things had progressively warmed up between them and the former trooper was not afraid to tease the engineer anymore. 

Poe let go of Armitage in alarm when he saw the massive shape of Kylo Ren being pushed down the ramp into the hangar. 

“Don't worry. The vornsk has been declawed for good,” Armitage sneered, and Poe noticed the missing right arm and glassy eyes with a certain satisfaction. 

Ren did not seem to see them as Reyna marched him towards the brig, still too stunned by his defeat and being cut from the Force. Holdo smiled grimly as she watched him go. 

“Where is Captain Solo?” Jyn asked. “We have... some things to tell him.” 

“The Falcon is berthed in one of our MC cruisers, if I'm not mistaken,” the Admiral replied. “We'll patch you a connection.” 

“Thank you Admiral.” 

Poe made to follow her but Armitage caught him by his sleeve. 

“Let her do it alone. Telling Solo that Master Luke is dead, and probably by Ren's hand, is not something I want to witness.” 

Poe felt cold. Luke Skywalker was dead? His parents' friend, his honorary uncle, who had entrusted Shara with his precious Force-tree, still thriving on Yavin IV? A man he had known almost since birth? He shook his head, unable to process it. And how were they going to tell Wedge? The news would break his heart. 

Armitage slid an arm around his shoulders, pulling him close, and they slowly made their way to the mess hall, aiming to find a bottle or two of the strongest stuff on board and get fully drunk before the end of the evening. They stumbled into Poe’s bunk more than half-pissed already, barely taking their boots off before they both fell onto the mattress, an empty bottle of Corellian whiskey rolling on the floor. The other joined it soon, equally drained. 

Poe still thought clearly enough to hope he would not find the other side of the bed cold and empty in the morning. So many years without the person who completed him so well... he did not want to go through this again. It had taken losing Armitage to understand how much he truly meant to the pilot, and how much Poe loved him. He snuggled closer to the other man, resting against his shoulder, one arm wrapped around Tage's waist, enjoying his warmth as he slowly fell asleep. 

He woke hours later, with a massive headache of course, to the sound of someone sobbing and trying to hide it under the blankets. For a brief moment he wondered if he was in the middle of another nightmare, if he had dissociated enough this time not to realize _he_ was the one crying in the dark. Then he understood the sounds came from Armitage. When Poe had finally cracked, it had been ugly and painful but he had not thought twice before turning to his lover for some measure of comfort. The fact Armitage would hide even from him... hurt. He pulled the redhead against his chest, rocking him carefully until Armitage rolled between his arms to face him, his hands flat on Poe’s shoulders. 

“Sorry I woke you,” he mumbled, hiding his face in the hollow of Poe’s neck. 

“You can wake me whenever you need. Don't apologize for it.” 

“ 's going to take a while to remember that, ‘fter all that time alone...” 

Poe gently kissed the tip of his nose, prompting a surprised laugh out of the other man. 

“Grow up, pilot.” 

“Nah. Tell me if you want something, okay? What can I do?” 

“Dunno. Hold me. Tell me one of your silly stories like you did before… That… would help, I think.” 

So Poe began to dig into his memories for funny little things that he remembered from his childhood and early years of training. How he had gotten sick once, after eating too many melons in one sitting, or how he had believed there were fairies living in Luke’s Force-tree. That earned him a tired chuckle and a soft kiss at the corner of his mouth. 

“ s’nice...” Armitage muttered. “’mtimes I wish the rest of my parents’ team had survived Scarif too. Would have gotten three good uncles and a killer droid. Nothing can beat that.” 

Poe snorted. He had not been born then, but his parents had told him plenty of stories about Cassian Andor’s very… particular droid. 

“You certainly don’t need a killer droid. Go to sleep, Tage. Holdo will murder us if we come to… her meeting… with a hangover.” 

This being said, he yawned widely, his eyelids closing already. Armitage shook his head, grumbling a fond “Idiot”, before going back to sleep as well, nestled against Poe’s chest. 

* * 

The following morning saw them both in Holdo’s office, giving their reports on the operation, doing their best to stand straight and checking their words before they spoke. The headache was still there, of course. A holoprojection of Admiral Sloane participated to the meeting, giving her opinion on some points and taking notes. The two leaders had agreed that they should broadcast holos of the captive Kylo Ren as soon as possible, hoping to prompt the surrender of at least part of the First Order. Poe was more than willing to take the pictures himself. 

The Republic representatives were surprised Reyna had not killed Ren but apparently, the idea of keeping him behind bars for life had seemed more appealing. This girl had been raised by Sloane, all right. 

The second Ren spotted them, he yelled an impressive amount of threats and curses, quite harmless now since he was cut from the Force. 

“Wow!” someone commented. “He truly hates your guts, even more than mine. That's a feat.” 

They turned and found Sloane's pet Force-user standing behind them, smirking. Both men tensed but her hands never strayed near her weapons. Her expression shifted to something warmer as she considered them. She stepped towards them and held out a hand. 

“Thanks for helping with Snoke,” she said. “And sorry for the inconvenience we may have created.” 

“You're welcome,” Poe let out. _Though you should apologize to Finn instead. It's not **my** arm you cut off on Takodana._

From the way she glared at him, she must have caught that thought. She chose not to comment on it and retreated, leaving them in front of Ren’s cell. 

“So, Your Highness,” Poe hissed. “Anything to say to your valiant army?” 

“Nothing that you would be worthy of hearing,” Ren spat. “You must be so glad to have found someone who could do the dirty job for you.” 

“To each according to their abilities,” Armitage said curtly. “You and Snoke kicked a nasty nest of wasps when you encroached onto Sloane's territory.” 

The rest of the ‘discussion’ was similar and both men soon left Ren alone, having all the videos they needed. Trying to talk with the former Supreme Leader was… taxing at best, and Poe walked out of the bridge shaking slightly. Armitage made sure they were both excused for the rest of the day, and they spent it doing everything that crossed their minds but mentioning Ren.


	14. Trials

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for the vagueness of the procedures; I'm not exactly a legal expert ;)  
> Not for Kylo Ren fans.

Returning to the Core worlds always felt like stepping into an alternative universe, particularly after months, if not years traveling in the Rim. Crowded cities, whole planets covered in buildings... it was always a shock, and one Poe Dameron would never grow to appreciate. He did not like big cities as a principle, having grown among the giant trees of Yavin IV, and he hated the ever-present rumble of transports and people coming and going. Armitage tolerated it a bit better after working for the Senate, but his childhood on Arkanis and then Takodana often made him wish for a quieter place. Nonetheless, they were part of the escort that brought Kylo Ren to the current capitol, so they had to grin and bear it for some days.

To avoid any mishap, Kylo Ren had been dosed with Force-suppressants and locked up in a cell. Organa had specified in her will that she refused to have anything done to soften his fate so he would probably stand trial, and both Poe and Armitage would be called to testify against him. As far as Poe was concerned, this would not be an issue. Any thoughts of forgiving the man were long gone. Ben Solo had been dead and buried way before he turned against his co-students and slaughtered them. 

Said Supreme Leader was locked into a real bunker, in a place that could be labeled as an underground floor, with four check-points between the entrance and his cell. 

The drugs had been processed by his body but there must have been an ysalamir somewhere, because he could not sense anything from the other side of the door. Which meant he nearly jumped out of his skin when a glowing, translucent silhouette appeared, sitting on the cot. 

**“Told you I wouldn't leave you all alone,”** Luke - or rather his astral form - snickered. 

“I don't need you!” his nephew barked, not caring if the cameras hidden in the walls and ceiling made him look like a lunatic. “I've never needed anything from you.” 

**“Everything is wrong in that sentence,”** Luke drawled. **“Impressive. But I suppose it's a bit late to give you another lesson about the Force or how its misuse led you here.”**

And you won't launch into a moving speech about the value of forgiveness and redemption?” Ren smirked. 

**“No,”** the ghost said bluntly. **“Forgiveness was the old Jedis' way, or so I'm told, and I am not following all the precepts of the Order, as you well know. Plus I really have no wish to ever forgive what you did. Once I tried to help you, remember? You pushed me away as if I were some dirt on your boot. You're nothing but a raving lunatic who got outsmarted by an agent ten years your junior, who did not receive your training, a droid and a Force-blind. I hope they never let you out of this cage because Maker knows you're never going to reform a bit, and you'll just be a pain in everyone's ass if you're ever released. They all deserve better.”**

**“Couldn’t have said it any better,”** a second voice added. 

The apparition was taller than Luke, with light wavy hair and a scar bisecting his right eyebrow. 

**“Father, I don’t think you need to insist,”** Luke chided the other ghost gently. 

**“Yes, I do!”** Anakin barked. **“That little shit kept saying he took a leaf from my book, but would he shut up and listen when I tried to contact him? No, of course not! So this time he’s going to keep his bloody big ears open, now, and listen to every. Single. Word.”**

* * 

If Poe and Armitage thought the Republic justice was done with them after they delivered Ren to his new prison, they were sorely disappointed about a day later, when they received a message from the High Tribunal. 

“We've been summoned to testify,” Armitage announced. "I wonder what kind of lawyer they could find to defend Ren..." 

“One who wants fame and money,” Poe replied with a frown. “Or they picked the first guy on the list of court-appointed lawyers.” 

“In this case, I wouldn't want to be in their shoes. Though our testimony won't be a walk in the park either.” 

Poe nodded with resignation. Though it came with the job, he had never liked being the center of attention. Poster-boy was something he wished to avoid, preferably for the rest of his life. 

“I hope it won't take too long and they won't call us back every now and then to question us on such and such event,” he sighed. 

Thankfully, according to the representative they met a bit later over holocall to clarify the details of their intervention, each of them would only have to come for a day, two at most, before being released. They would not be able to avoid the reporters but hopefully they would manage to go back home without anyone tracking them down... wherever home could be. 

* * 

The witnesses were not called before the third day of the trial. The first session had to be postponed due to the defendant's behavior, and the second was devoted to reading the voluminous act of accusation. Thus they were summoned on the third day. 

For once, Poe had put a more formal uniform on. He was not particularly fond of the red tunic or the boots fitting more tightly than his usual flight gear, but he had to look his best when addressing the tribunal. Being a civilian, Armitage at least escaped the uniform, but he did not seem particularly pleased with wearing the strict-looking, dark blue suit Holdo had fished for him. At least it was not purple. Nor pink. His dignity could not have managed that, and both colors would have clashed with his hair horribly, anyway. 

He looked very good in it nonetheless. 

“Don't stare at me like this,” Armitage admonished. 

“Like what?” Poe asked innocently. 

“As if you wanted nothing more than rip those clothes off me. Wait until we're done at the tribunal, you savage.” 

“I suspect that our round at the tribunal will severely dampen the mood, anyway,” Poe said with a grimace. 

Armitage nodded grimly. Recounting Ren’s crimes would be a deeply unpleasant moment, but they could not avoid it. 

“More than you imagine. I've read a bit on the Holonet and apparently, His Highness managed to attract some fans who would invent the most circumvoluted theories to excuse his behavior,” he groaned. “Prepare to be painted as a villain online, dear.” 

“And you as well.” 

“Yes, but I've been playing that role for seven years already. I'm used to it.” 

Poe gave him a queasy smile before they left together for the building hosting the trial. The entrance hall was already crowded by reporters and onlookers alike and the security team had a hard time making way for the witnesses, judges and jury. Being significantly shorter than the guards, Poe had no problem dodging the questions thrown at them, while Armitage pretended he could not hear them over the ambient noise. They were guided towards a row of seats on a side of the large room, probably an auditorium for congresses that had been turned over for the duration of the trial. Among the other witnesses, Armitage noted the presence of several defectors from the Order, while Poe recognized at least two heads of local governments. It would take a while to hear everybody in detail, the pilot thought. Then again, the First Order had retreated back to their bases in the Unknown Regions after their defeat at Motexx and would not threaten the Core anytime soon, particularly not if the Generals and Admirals were fighting each other for the mantle and throne of Supreme Leader. 

“We won’t go first, I think,” Armitage whispered. “They’ll start with the lowest-ranking person and end with our two governors over there. We’re somewhere in the middle between them and those three defectors, who I suspect must have been stormtroopers.” 

“You see anyone for the defense?” Poe asked in the same tone. 

“So far, only this guy over there. From what I read online, he must be a psychiatrist.” 

“He will have one field day with Ren… Wonder what he’s going to say to make his client look less… irredeemable.” 

“Probably will try to dig some dirt on the family. The usual,” Armitage replied with a frown. 

He could not say more, as the judges began to fill their seats. He barely held a gasp when he recognized Grand Admiral Sloane among them. He was not the only one to notice, and murmurs rose from the audience. 

As foreseen, the troopers were indeed the first to be questioned. Two of them had been stationed on the _Finalizer_ , and Armitage idly wondered what had happened to the ship. Hopefully the Republic had not destroyed it. One more unit added to the fleet could not hurt. He listened patiently as the former soldiers described Ren's behavior aboard the star destroyer and during missions planetside, his mistreatment of soldiers, officers and technicians alike, as well as his complete disregard for civilian lives. 

“Did no one considered stopping him in a more definitive way?” one of the judges, an Ishi Tib, asked. 

“There have been rumors of sabotage attempts on his shuttle or his TIE fighter, but obviously they did not work, and the people considered responsible promptly disappeared. It dissuaded the others to try anything else.” 

During the fourth testimony, Poe began to fidget and shift on his seat. The detailed recounting of Ren's crimes was beginning to wear him down and he felt anxiety creeping up his throat. He managed to bend forward as if to readjust one of his boots and gulped one of the relaxing pills he had brought with him. No one had noticed his little stunt and he quickly felt much better, the tension rolling off his shoulders. 

After the troopers came two officers who had served under Ren's orders for five and three years respectively. Armitage did not know them personally but he had crossed path with one of them during his time as a spy. He could not remember much about the guys, to be honest. 

Their testimony was much longer that the soldiers' and the following ones had to be postponed for the following day. Poe sighed. Just what he needed, another run with the journalists. He could only hope that his relationship with Armitage would be kept a secret until that whole mess was solved. 

Needless to say, none of them slept well that night. 

The morning saw them back at the tribunal, not particularly alert even after three cups of caf each. Poe pinched himself several times before the judges arrived in the room. Ren was not looking at anyone in particular, seemingly dazed, though it might have to do with the presence of a pair of ysalamiri above his box. 

Poe was called second and rose from his seat in a daze, his heart hammering against his ribs as if on the eve of a major battle. This time, Ren looked up and watched him walk to the seat and table facing the judges with barely concealed loathing. 

After stating his name, age and rank, Poe was invited to take a seat. Just as well, as his legs were shaking under him. 

“Commander Dameron, when did you encounter Kylo Ren for the first time?” the Pantoran judge asked. 

“Under that name, two months ago,” Poe replied. “I learned about his real identity a bit later.” 

“Can you tell us what happened?” 

“Ren arrived along with two squadrons of troopers while I was in the village of Tuanul on Jakku, getting a map to the first Jedi temple from Lor San Tekka. The troopers began shooting as soon as they left their transports, the villagers trying to fight back. My own ship was damaged so I could not leave anymore. I hid the map in my astromech before going back to lend some help to the villagers. Not that it made a huge difference in the end...” 

“How so?” “

They were outgunned and had to surrender quickly. San Tekka was brought before Kylo Ren. I was too far away to hear their conversation, but soon enough Ren picked his lightsaber and beheaded the old man.” 

Some shocked murmurs were heard behind him. 

“I shot Ren,” Poe went on. “Or I tried to. The bolt remained frozen midway.” 

"Is that accurate?" Vice-chancellor Darman asked. 

Rae Sloane nodded. 

“We have observed such phenomenons, and one of our Force-sensitive agents can perform similar feats,” she concurred. “Please carry on, Commander.” 

“I was dragged into one of the transports, and Ren ordered his troopers to execute the surviving villagers. It was unnecessary, as they were unarmed, and unable to warn the Resistance about what had just happened. Most of them did not even know why I had come.” 

“Then you were brought onto one of the Order's star destroyers,” the Vice-chancellor prompted. 

“Yes. My first impression once I got on board was 'Damnit, it's _huge_!', Poe admitted. “Thousands of soldiers and pilots, brand-new fighters and as I learned later that day, a more efficient firepower than the Imperial models.” 

“And Ren personally interrogated you,” Sloane went on. 

“He did, after more... conventional methods didn't work. And he got what he wanted. He sent fighters after my astromech in order to get the map.” 

“Do you know why the First Order deployed so many resources to find one man?” 

“I'd say it was not the Order's military per se," Poe amended. "Their leader wanted to find and eradicate all traces of the Jedis, but the sentiment was not shared by the high command. I got to discuss it with a defecting trooper and he confirmed that most of the officers considered that quest as a waste of time.” 

“The former FN-2187, isn't it? A shame he could not join us, but he is currently doing an excellent job _deconditioning_ his colleagues. Did you witness any other action from Kylo Ren?” 

“The result of his intervention on Takodana. Several dozens civilians either injured or killed. I'll grant you that they were not all law-abiding citizens, but none of them was in direct contact with the First Order nor the Resistance at that time. I had no further contact with him until he was brought from the Supremacy.” 

They asked him some more questions about Finn and how they had escaped from the _Finalizer_ , before they called Armitage Erso-Andor to the stand. Poe raised an eyebrow; he did not know that Tage had officially taken his foster parents' names. 

“According to the Resistance reports, you were a spy for them.” 

“Correct.” 

“How did you come in contact with Kylo Ren?” 

“About five years ago, when he was assigned to the star destroyer where I was stationed. Unlike Commander Dameron, however, I had been forewarned about his true identity. We had met as children and then teenagers, so he would remember me and possibly be suspicious about my motivations.” 

“What did you observe over that period?” 

Armitage went on telling how Ren would mistreat his own crew, how diplomatic missions often ended in slaughter, how he would destroy everything that did not help his quest for his uncle... From his box, Ren was glaring at him, probably wishing he could have access to the Force to choke him for good. Poe supposed that being held accountable for his actions for the first time in years must have felt strange. 

After half an hour of questions, Armitage was dismissed and walked back to the bench where Poe was waiting for him. The hearing was broadcast live and every being with an access to Holonet would know his face. Perhaps if they moved to the most remote world in the Outer Rim, they would be left in peace. Kes was probably going to grill Poe over his relationship with the redhead too... He groaned softly. 

The audition of the prosecution witnesses lasted for another two days, which Poe and Armitage had to attend. Then it was time for the defense to speak. 

Armitage had been right regarding the presence of the psychiatrist and the claims she would make to explain (read: excuse) Ren's actions. Parental neglect, if not abandonment, featured heavily in her demonstration. From his seat, Poe could see Holdo fuming, and clearly struggling to remain still rather than go and throttle the expert. _An expert at exaggeration, for sure,_ he thought. _No one forced Ren to dig into other kids' minds and terrorize them with illusions._ Sloane looked bored and pointedly reread the previous testimonies as the psychiatrist developed her theories. 

The testimony, or rather the conference, lasted for a whole four hours, and while Ren had seemed to approve at first, he was now displaying his boredom quite obviously. Thankfully, the day neared its end and they could leave the tribunal to take some rest. The verdict would be given by the end of the week at best, and the witnesses would not be called back before that. It left Poe and Armitage some time to sort their mind and process everything that had happened during the previous weeks 

* * 

When called by his son, Kes had told him that Ren's trial had had some unexpected effects in their corner of the Rim, in the form of a much slower and intermittent Holonet connection. So many people were logged in to follow it that they had managed to overflow the intersystems network. On the evening of the verdict, it would probably get worse. Nonetheless, the old man had enough time to reassure his son regarding his health and the state of their farm. The First Order had never set foot on Yavin IV and everything was under control there. 

That discussion helped Poe feel better, and more at ease before the nervousness caused by the approaching verdict could take over. 

* * 

Surprising absolutely no one out of his circle of admirers, Kylo Ren received a life sentence for multiple assassinations, complicity in mass murder, kidnapping and torture.


	15. Unexpected player

Poe had felt immensely relieved after the verdict. Ren would be locked up far away, cut from the Force, and would not be able to harm anyone ever again. The good mood buoyed him though a whole week and several intense sessions of lovemaking with Armitage, but soon the nightmares began to creep again into his mind.

Armitage suggested to discuss it with his mother, which at first left Poe a bit doubtful. Jyn had never seemed to be the listening type. His partner’s insistence made him reconsider and he accepted to give it a try. Though Poe would have never considered it before Jakku, speaking to Jyn about his nightmares and panic attacks helped immensely. She had more experience with it that he had suspected. Armitage had carefully kept his mother's secrets. 

It reassured the redhead to see Poe slowly reverting back to his old, more carefree, self, but he knew it was only a reprieve before other serious troubles appeared. 

Sooner or later, Poe would have to stop flying, Armitage reflected. There was a reason so many pilots - those who survived past forty, at least - retired and took another job, and it had nothing to do with reflexes. Bloodburn would set one day, he thought. It was unavoidable with the number of flights and hyperspace travels Poe had taken in the past few years, and he would have his wings clipped for good this time. It was going to be awful, Armitage knew. Poe would act like a caged nexu for a while before resignation set. They would not make a farmer out of him so Armitage should better start looking for another activity, to make sure his partner did not lose his mind staying at home. He was good with people, sure, and reasonably proficient with numbers… He could cook too, and had a fondness for tropical flowers from his homeworld. Well… what kind of job could you take with that? 

Reopening Jyn and Cassian's safe house for orphaned children on Takodana sounded like an interesting idea. The last civil war had left thousands of them alone in the world, so if they could help even a few... or export their model on other planets... 

For several months he put the discussion aside, though the orphanage was indeed reopened, welcoming two dozens children within the first days of activity. Maz was still busy rebuilding her lair, but Jyn and Armitage did not lack for help, as several discharged soldiers and pilots joined them to take care of the grounds and sometimes teach the kids. Armitage had to admit he enjoyed himself immensely as the maths and science teacher, much to Poe's amusement. 

They received few news from the remote moon where Ren had been jailed. The man had understood soon enough that no one would come and try to free him from his prison so he had attempted to escape... and in a matter of three months had managed to lose every little right he had. No more strolls out in the yard, no more exercise, and not even human contact as he had attacked one of the guards bringing his meals. He would quickly lose what remained of his mind at this rate. 

* * 

Armitage had been teaching for nearly five months when Poe came back from a trip to the Core with his shoulders hunched, and more depressed than ever. 

“Something happened to Kes?” the engineer immediately asked. 

His partner shook his head. 

"Kriffing bloodburn began,” Poe said sadly. “I felt the first symptoms a week ago. The high command discharged me immediately. At least I have enough money to cover the cost of the treatment. One regular flight every six months, and not more, they said. That’s going to be fun...” 

“I'm so sorry,” Armitage murmured, slipping an arm around his lover's shoulders. 

“Not your fault. The medic said the blows I received on Jakku might have accelerated the process. Kriff!” he swore, “I have no idea what to do now...” 

“Good thing I've been looking for a new job for you, eh?” 

Poe blinked several times, taken aback. 

“You... what?” 

“I've known you for decades, Poe. You'll die of boredom if you turn into a househusband,” Armitage pointed out. 

“True,” Poe admitted with a small smile. “Husband?” he added after the word finally registered, raising an eyebrow. 

“You suggested it,” Armitage reminded him. 

Poe nodded, a larger smile slowly growing on his lips. 

“Then it’s time.” 

“Time for what?” 

Poe fished a silver chain from under his shirt, a ring dangling from it. He took the piece of jewelry off and handed it to Armitage. 

“It belonged to my mother,” Poe explained as he closed Armitage's fingers around the ring. “I decided to keep it until I could give it to the right person.” 

This time, the engineer was left speechless. 

“I can get onto one knee and make a grand proposal, if you wish,” Poe added with a wink. 

“Nah, I... I think this will be more than enough. So, when is the ceremony?” 

Poe laughed. 

“I'm supposed to be the impatient one, don't you remember?” 

No surprise there, Poe made all the calls to his father, his colleagues from Black Squadron, Kalonia of course... Somehow the news must have made their way onto the Holonet, because Armitage received a message from a tech on the _Finalizer_ asking if it was okay to come with a plus-one ( _Not Matt, no need to worry about a scene._ ). Pleasantly surprised, Armitage sent the invitation, crossing his fingers so that it was not a trap. 

* * 

Fortunately, there was no trap, and Armitage's colleague arrived along with a nice blue Twi'lek girl. The funny part was that, except for their eyes, the two men could almost have been mistaken for twins. Then again, Armitage did not slouch that much and his skin did not look as pale as his friend's. It still got them some curious looks and jokes that Poe should better not get confused, else he found himself with the wrong bridegroom. 

“I would have never made it as a pilot if I'd been that short-sighted, guys!” Poe protested in good humor. “Come on, let's be realistic here!” 

“If the ladies and gentlemen could gather in, please?” the local civil servant interfered. 

They followed him meekly inside the only administrative building on Yavin IV, some of them clearly not at ease in their formal attire. Who could have guesses, though, that Jyn Erso would look that smart in a long, pale green dress embroidered with metallic thread along the seams? Holdo was wearing one of her usual purple eccentric costumes, surprising truly no one. The huge white and pink flower she wore in her hair, however, seemed a bit over the top, even for her. 

They had decided to keep their vows as simple as possible. They had already made their promises a long time ago, and they had hopefully years and decades ahead to repeat them. Poe could not resist and had added some private jokes regarding their respective jobs during the war - such as "never taking a professional interview without referring to their partner" and "not creating a supernova again". If the official found it a bit peculiar, he did not comment on it and proceeded as usual. Half an hour later, Poe and Armitage were officially married before the eyes of sentients and law. 

“And now,” Finn declared as they exited the building, “time to get back to the farm and have a decent celebration, right?” 

Poe nodded. 

“Knowing my father, no one will be able to walk straight or speak without slurring for a week after that, but...” 

“ _That's_ what I call a decent celebration,” Finn cut in. “Let's go!” 

Poe smiled as he watched him go. Finn had certainly grown a festive side since the end of the war. Not that anyone would complain. The more, the merrier, after all. 

The previsions proved accurate. Kes had stored probably enough food and spirits for a whole battalion, not to mention a lot of holos and music records. Poe promptly lost count of how many drinks he had downed, and Armitage was not faring much better, much to their friends' delight. For once, the redhead's speech lacked its usual precision and his clipped Core accent dissolved into impromptu fits of giggles. Jyn and Kes helped them to the guest room as the sun began to poke above the horizon, before going to sleep as well. Needless to say, the orchards were left unattended for the following day. 

The newlywed emerged with some effort from a heavy sleep and took the stairs very cautiously, prompting mocking grins from their elders. 

“Where are th'others?” Poe mumbled as he dropped inelegantly on a chair. 

“Two on the couch, three in hammocks and the rest in the barn,” Kes counted in his fingers. “And not a single early riser among them.” 

“You gave them your special cocktail, my dear father-in-law,” Armitage drawled. “Of course they're not going to rise early.” 

He almost inhaled his cup of strong tea the minute it appeared on the table, while Poe did his best not to make a face at the bitterness of it. He had to admit, though, that it cleared his head quickly. 

“You should take a walk, that will help,” Jyn offered. 

Still a bit groggy from the short night and Kes' fruit punch, they followed her advice and after putting the dishes away, went strolling under the trees, careful not to disturb the various colonies of bees living there. The relatively fresh air and the exercise did help with the raging headache, to be honest, but they were not particularly productive that day… 

* * 

If the wedding night had been spent in a daze, they more than made up for it during the following days. Armitage suspected they had tried every surface in the bedroom, and probably the refresher too, though they were not twenty anymore. By the end of the week, they finally emerged from their quarters and decided to help around with the farm so Kes would not make (too much) fun of them. 

Several months passed like this, Armitage making short trips between Yavin and Takodana to bring fresh food and new plants for the safe house while Poe worked with his father in the farm. Then Armitage was called back to the capitol for further negotiations with Admiral Sloane and her faction. His expertise on the First Order was apparently needed, though he suspected the Admiral was also trying to recruit him. 

Poe grumbled and complained that the Republic was now officially trying to ruin their honeymoon. Armitage reminded him that they had spent weeks together lounging on Yavin, which was more than many married couples could say. The grumbling abated, but not much. 

Somehow, the redhead told himself once he arrived on Hosnia Prime, he would have preferred a job interview rather than what (or _who_ ) Sloane had brought with her. Truth be told, Armitage had never been in close contact with infants, but he had never thought one of them could frighten him that much. Then again, he had never thought he would one day find his husband’s offspring staring at him innocently with big, brown eyes. Snoke’s pet scientists had to steal a sample from Poe and use it, of course... 

There was no way to soften the blow. He had no idea how Poe would react to the news, given how furious he had been when Armitage had told him about the samples. He tickled the baby one last time before going back to his quarters and calling his husband. Thankfully Poe was not asleep at that time, but busy cooking his dinner. 

“So, anything worth mentioning?” he asked. “Sloane's still trying to recruit you?” 

"Yes, there's that. But... we have something else to deal with.” 

“Such as?” 

“Normally, I'd say 'Congratulations', though I don't think they are in order now,” Armitage replied, ill-at-ease. 

He heard Poe sigh, then silence for a moment. His husband's voice was resigned when he asked: 

“What is it?” 

“A boy, born a bit premature, but healthy. Growing steadily, and... he looks like you.” 

Poe remained silent once more, his breath hitching from time to time. 

“Can I bring him home?” Armitage asked softly. “Or if you don't want him...” 

“Stay where you are,” Poe told him, his voice hoarse. “I'll come and take a decision then. That will be my trip for the semester.” 

“I'm waiting for you.” 

The communication snapped shut, leaving the engineer at a loss. Parents abandoning their children had always been a huge sore point for Armitage, though he admitted he would understand if Poe refused to take the boy in. The baby had been created rather than conceived, without his knowledge nor consent, and the way the samples had been taken... suffice to say that Poe still had nightmares about his time on the _Finalizer_. 

* * 

Poe arrived four days later with a large travel bag slung over his shoulder. They would be stuck there for the following six months, after all. He barely gave Armitage enough time to greet him before 

“So, where is he?” 

“Maternity ward in the main hospital,” Armitage replied. “I've warned them we would come and check on him.” 

“Let’s be done with it, then.” 

Poe went to call a taxi the same way he would march towards a firing squad, Armitage thought. At least the medic who met them at the front desk was kind enough not to ask too many questions, and promptly led them to the room where the youngest children were kept. Poe went inside alone at first, his husband waiting on the threshold. 

He very carefully picked the child from his crib. A pair of curious brown eyes stared at him and a tiny hand splayed like a small starfish against his own. The baby's skin was a shade lighter than Poe's, but the eyes and hair were definitely his. He watched in fascination as the little face blinked at him, then yawned and went back to sleep, undisturbed. Trusting. Armitage was observing them with a somewhat hopeful expression. Poe hesitated between putting the child back in his crib immediately or keeping him in his arms for a moment. The little one seemed to like the warmth, at any rate. 

Armitage approached them, coming to a halt beside Poe to take a better look at the sleeping baby. 

“What will happen to him if we don't take him in?” Poe wondered. 

“If they don't find a foster family, I suppose he could end as a 'ward of the Empire', with the stormtrooper program or a life on a colony as a prospect once he reaches adulthood.” 

“No.” 

Poe instinctively tightened his hold on the child, prompting a small groan. 

“Shh, shh, sorry about that... This won't happen. He won't be turned into another armored drone. I won’t let them.” 

“Well... we don't have much of a choice, then. Unless you know someone on our side who could...” 

Poe shook his head. So many of the people he trusted had died during the war... and he did not know what the rest would make of a child created this way. 

“As it happens... I'm rather fond of the little guy,” he admitted. “He sure looks like me. And he's kind of... cute.” 

“I'm relieved to hear that. Are we keeping him, then?” 

“I suppose there's no other way. At least we can give it a try. He's not Force-sensitive, on top of everything else?” 

“The test came back negative. You can breathe.” 

Poe relaxed slightly, one of his thumbs gently rubbing the baby's hand, causing him to sigh and mumble from time to time. Armitage wrapped his arms around his husband's shoulders and they remained like this for a while, quietly. 

On the following day, they gathered the few items stored for the child before the hospital signed him off to them. They would have to buy clothes, a crib, toys… The safe house on Takodana had never welcomed such a young resident so they had nothing for a baby. Their six-months stay in the Core would give them ample time to find all the required supplies. 

* * 

For once, Jyn let her surprise show when she discovered their little guest, but this new addition to her household did not seem to bother her much. He would share his parents’ rooms for a while, until they had everything they needed for him. 

“And how will you name that charming little rascal?” Jyn inquired. 

“Thought about it during on the way back,” Poe replied. “I was consideringTavin.” 

“Sounds nice.” 

Later on that evening, while Poe and one of their wards were fussing over Tavin, Armitage went to his mother’s room. He sat by her bedside, putting a loose strand of whitening hair back behind her ear. 

“I sense you have some questions,” Jyn said, her voice low and tired. 

“Just one.” 

She smiled encouragingly. 

“Go on, Tage.” 

“Have you ever wished you had a child of your own?” he said quickly, before nerves tied his tongue. “You never thought I had... prevented that, somehow?” 

Her eyes widened at that, the statement totally unexpected. 

“Oh my... have you been mulling over that for all those years?” 

He nodded wordlessly. 

“I admit that we discussed it with Cassian a few times, but we already had our hands full with our little wards, and... experience had taught us both that genetics are not what makes a family in the end. You were everything we could have wanted, and if your grandfather was still alive, he would be very proud of you and what you did.” 

She let out a low chuckle. 

“And you managed to make me a grandmother, on top of everything. If someone had told me _that_ when I joined the Alliance, I would have... suggested them a therapy, I think.” 

He grinned at that. He would probably have done the same. 

“Once we’ve grown accustomed to this one, perhaps we’ll try for another,” he mused. “Medical technology allows so many miracles now, why not a little one for us, eh?” 

Jyn nodded her approval. 

“Are you happy like this?” she asked then. 

“Yes. Yes, I can say I am.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this is the end, ladies and gentlemen.  
> I'll probably post one or two things in French before reverting to English. If there's anything you'd like to read, feel free to tell me :)

**Author's Note:**

> Tags will be updated with each new chapter.


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